Toy Soldiers and Empty Men
by Lovehammer Inc
Summary: Another 'What If' is spawned, this time, 'What if it had been Chaos, not Cosmos that Beryl had met inbetween lives', so Beryl makes a wish, to prevent Fulgrim from suffering as he did, thus starts the story of 'Toy Soldiers and Empty Men'.
1. Toy Soldiers: The Compact

{oOo}

_Step by step, heart to heart, left right left_

_We all fall down like toy soldiers_

_Bit by bit, torn apart, we never win_

_But the battle wages on; for toy soldiers_

{oOo}

The room was dark, a wreck, a ruin, the woman within it slumped, her face in her hands.

"Your soul screams of regret, little girl." The voice is beautiful, filled with terrible amusement. "Tell me, what is it you would regret so much?"

"The man I loved, I hurt." the words are flat, the speaker lacking the energy to argue. "Begone, monster, I'll not have you mocking me."

"Ah, but If I'm not mocking you?" the words are filled with a terrible amusement. "Little girl, If I could offer you a chance to go and change the past, would you take it?"  
"None may change the past, time is linear." the words she says are bitter, filled with the resignation of a condemned man. But the voice only smiles. "Time," it purred. "Is a mobius strip. So I ask you again, little girl, little puppet. What would a puppet do if it could control its own strings?"

"...I would go back," the words are soft, "I would kill the fool that was myself before the fall of the moon. I would slay Metallia with it. I would go back, to when I first met him. To when he first saw me as nothing, and then I would crush his foes, would save him from this. From this moment when he is broken."

"Because you love him little girl?" The voice is filled with that dark amusement and bitter approval, "Make a compact with me, little one. I will grant you your wishes."

"Wishes have a price, and I'll not burden him with mine," She said quietly, "I'll not hurt him like this again, I _can't_."

"I'll ask no price from him, nor harm him," It promised softly, seductively. "Only you, to pay my price, and you value yourself so little."

"He is the sun and the moon, and I am dust." the words are simple but in the heart of their speaker, they are true.

"... Then you will take my offer, little one?" The voice knows it has won. She is desperate, beyond desperation, beyond despair. Only this remains.

"I will make a compact with you, for his life. For his safety, for his honor, his sanity, his liberation. That he live in comfort, and happiness. Free from my mistakes. All these I demand," her voice is stronger now, fiercer. Defending the one her heart sees as most precious.

"...Then we have a compact, little girl." The voice is amused, proud, bitter-sweet, joyful. "_We have a compact_. I will send you back, child, and in the end, you will make a fine piece to play against the false gods."

He lets her see him. Tall, dark and pale, glorious. His dark hair, falling to his ankles, skin pale as milk, eyes cold and blue as ice. Clad in robes of blue, ash-grey silver and black. And smiling. The smile of a predator, a man driven mad by despair. "We have a compact, little one..." he purred, and his voice would have made Slaanesh weep for envy, rich and resonant, dark as his shadows.

"Chaos!" She hissed, in rage. "I should have known. I've failed him again," and then she clenched her fists. "Why do you offer me this bargain, fiend?"

"Firstly because I am... tired. Tired of fighting your precious moon princess," The being before her paced, graceful and terrible all at once. "Second, because you have been a good pawn. Third, because the Chaos of this realm is as food to me."

It stopped, locked gazes with her, those uncanny eyes gazing into her soul. "And last.. oh, little one," It… No. He turns his mind back, back to the last ruler of the new Crystal Tokyo kingdom that had been, was being built now, was existing, had existed. Chaos was all things, including the future after all, and some things stayed, even after it had won, after the end was only itself and the void.

Like the feel of helplessness and being sheltered when it had been weaker, newly bound into this shell. Like the warmth of a hug. The kiss on its forehead. The warm, sad smile of a parent.

...The memory of a cold corpse in its arms as the pain began to drive it mad. Horribly horribly mad, with wanting what it had just lost, the corpse fragile in its arms, red gold hair spilling down as it closed the corpse's eyes.

...Chaos had learned, at the end. What humanity felt like. It was _pain_. It _hurt_.

"Last because your soul screams, little girl. Like my mother's screamed when she was human, before she bound me into this shape with her arts."

"I loved my mother," the words are like blood, drawn unwilling. "I loved her and she shattered because of a human. As you shattered, little girl. I know that look, know the screams of regret, the desire for oblivion. I cannot forget. You are as I am. You scream, too."

It hissed, held back rage. Rage could wait. This was a new world, a new universe, that had not yet begun to scream. The Cauldron existed. Perhaps she existed too.

"What little I know of humanity, I learned from my mother. Honor is shit. Duty is ash. The world is dust. But love is important, and those who love as you have, to the destruction of themselves over and over... I will give you your wishes, little girl, because I could not grant _hers_."

"You will cheat me," She said bitterly. "As you cheated me before."

"My pawns and those of this dimension... They cheated you, child."

"But I will not. After all, we are alike, you and I." It smiles, bleak, bitter, and feral.

"What proof may I have of your words?" She demanded.

It tilted it's head quizzically. Contemplated her words. "...I will offer you the chance to summon things, creatures or beings from your universe," It offered. "But not of the Moon Kingdom, oh no," It grinned madly again, like a Cheschire Cat.

"You may only summon those of Terra, from Terra, because you are _of_ Terra."

"And," It purred. "I will give you a foretaste of payment, yes? Since we are already agreed."

Chaos was past. Chaos was present. Chaos was future.

All things would come to it, for was it not all things? The death of a pawn, of Metallia was nothing. In this Beryl, it now had a Queen.

The kill was easy, quick. So very close to the portal, it was easy to wrap an arm around her other self, and slide the blade in between her shoulders. She caught the corpse as she fell, laid it down gently closing the eyes of the dead. "You'll thank me later," She told her past self quietly, before she went to find the Queen of the Moon.

Within the new dimension, the new universe, Chaos smiled.

The sealing of Metallia went apace. Beryl felt profoundly uncomfortable at the so-called victory party, fleeing as early as possible to the rooms she'd been given to sleep in.

She woke up to Chaos looking down at her and choked, in shock. "You!" she said, stunned, then, as she sat up, began looking around herself at the unfamiliar room, with the Aquila. It, resembled her rooms in the universe she came from, but she knew nothing that could explain waking up in a strange room, next to an embodiment of evil. Or at least, of obliteration.

"Yes, me." Chaos said companionably, lounging like a cat over Beryl's new couch. "Haven't you guessed? Did you think the world would stand still as you enacted your changes? Everything changed when you warned Serenity about the Moon Kingdom. Everythin, including the now, in this world. For one thing..." Chaos grinned. "The world of Sailor Moon, and its moon kingdom, shines bright, an eternal age of peace and love without having to fight. At all."

"The likelihood is," Chaos grinned. "While that's happening, those who had received the chance to live there? Their martial skills atrophy through long centuries of peace, strengthening myself. But that's irrelevant. What's important is, because of what you did, you saved the Princess from ever having been born here. There is no Princess Serenity in this world. No Senshi. Only the Primarchs and their sire. And the Ruinous Powers that plan to destroy them."

"Fulgrim," Beryl hissed, catching the creature's gaze, hands around his throat. "What of my lord Fulgrim?"

"He lives," Chaos grinned. "As I promised, little girl. He and his siblings are yet uncorrupted. You have plenty of time, to show him your worth, to make him want you. And plenty of time to pay him back in kind, to make amends for your failings."

Only then did Beryl let go of his neck. "He is free?"

"He lives and is free," Chaos clarified. "As I promised. But you know as well as I do that the sword that corrupted him is in Laeran space."

"Then," Beryl said quietly. "I need to melt that temple and everything in it to slag before he gets there."

Chaos grinned as his pawn went rapidly to work, packing everything she owned and could use. Beryl of House Cesian would vanish. As if she had never been. And no one would ever remember her.

{oOo}

AN: As the author has asked, I am putting this story the way she organised it, at my discretion, from the files she has kindly sent me.

Thank you Dji~ :)


	2. Toy Soldiers: An Interview and an Oath

{oOo}

She enters the room, clad in purple silk, black crystal armor that takes back the light and gives it back, prismatic, ebon mirrors. Flanked by two Custodes, taken to see the Emperor. She is not sure if this is a good thing, or a bad thing.

All she knows is that she sees him, and he is _beautiful_.

She does not know if she trusts the reports she's had of his behavior. But that is irrelevant. Her loyalty is firm, and needs not be bought. It is his already.

She stands, tall for a female, straight, head held high, seemingly fearless. Her lips tinted purple, clad in his color; her hair the red of blood. The visor shades her face, its deep hues causing her skin to shine, pale as alabaster.

She has eyes only for him.

Fulgrim stands at Father's side. He is proud to be at his side, glad to be acknowledged so. It is not the same glory that falls to Horus (it'll never be, Horus is what Primarch should be and Fulgrim is not), but it is close.

He watches the odd woman enter, curious about her. Who is she? What is the meaning of those strange powers? What is the armor made of? (How replicable is it? How much does it cost?) The questions swirl behind his eyes, but there's no indication of the curiosity on his face (always look proud, show no weakness, all your brothers are strong, he's the weakest, he has to be better).

"Who are you?" the Emperor asks.

He who found Serenity was a blazing flame. He who did not is a burning sun, human and yet entirely alien. The form is that of a man in his prime, but behind it something else lurks. It is ancient and unfathomable, it's thoughts like fire, burning those who would dare to understand them.

The Emperor watches the newcomer and judges. Thousand possibilities are born with each step she makes, and weighs his chances. Like a spider, his mind begins to spin a web of plans.

Will she be of use?

Hundreds of images unfurl; burning cities, screaming Eldar; dying daemons. She is a weapon, the visions say, a blade forged in the depths of despair, awaiting a hand to wield it. A most _specific _hand. "My name is Beryl." She says quietly. Pride is irrelevant. Pain is irrelevant. There is only the chance to serve _him_.

_"_I have no other name_."_ she says, no flippancy in it. Nothing remaining, but Purpose. She will make the Warp Gods bleed.

But first she has to pass this goddamn interview. It would be easier if what was before her was human; but he is, yet not.

How the hells do you pass an interview with an eldritch horror?

It is most interesting. She can be of use, though only if placed under Fulgrim's command. A living weapon, one of many. If Fulgrim's hand never falters neither will she. The Emperor had different plans for his third son, but plans could be changed.

A weapon given to another weapon. It is an amusing concept. Plans shall be remade.

"You use a most intriguing weapon, Beryl," he says. "What is it?"

Fulgrim watches her. Black eyes trail the outline of the armor. Perhaps there is even approval in them, but it is not that of a man appreciating a woman. It is purely the aesthetics that interest him: the shape of the armor, the colours and how they compliment each other.

(The edges are sharp. Remain alert, she has weapons. Danger is always around. He needs to be ready.)

"A variety of energy absorbing crystal. I make it." She says. In her open hand, the crystal forms itself quickly, too quickly for the human eye to see, changing forms only once it is large enough to be visible as a huge shard, to the naked eye. First, a spear, then, a sword. Then, an axe. Then it seems to cease to exist.

But only seems.

It is there in-potentia, the pattern held, the molecules temporarily dispersed. She supposes it must be something this world would call psyker powered, but then, they considered everything to be psychically powered, even what her people used to call magic. _But that was a long time ago, the past is dead._

It's but a moment, but suddenly the Custodes are tense, baring their weapons down and Fulgrim nearly springs, poised like a giant feral cat. Only one raised hand is stopping them.

The Emperor watches the display calmly, watching the patterns that do not form. A psyker and yet not. The possibilities… The thin threads connect and form a rope. She will serve and she will anchor.

"And you wish to serve the Imperium of Man?" he asks, laying his first trap. Will she betray herself?

Fulgrim is unsure. The weapons are unnerving, changing from one to another so quickly before his eyes. Yet Father remains calm and so Fulgrim stands straight again, but his now visibly more guarded, watchful.

"I wish to serve a _specific person_. One among your sons." she clarifies. Best not to lie. Truth is after all, the only thing she can bring to this. _And if she dies? No. If she dies, she will at least have tried. And Chaos is still bound to her final orders. It will serve. Oh, yes. It will serve._ "Your sons serve you and the Imperium of Man. Therefore, I will be serving the Imperium either way."

"You would make demands-!" Fulgrim snaps, but his Father silences him with his hand.

He watches Beryl, his whole stance radiating hostility and outrage. (Father should be respected. Father took him away from bleak, hopeless Chemos. Father is magnificent. Father is the ideal.) Such insolence should not be tolerated.

"Perhaps we should speak in private, Beryl," the Emperor suggests.

The girl is too… single-minded. She will destroy her own usefulness. Fulgrim will not command her correctly if he hates her.

"As you wish." Beryl agrees, bowing, as is expected of her. She will do as the Emperor wishes, for now. Her stance, her straight back, her blank expression betrays nothing, not even the sickening hurt that tears at her at the sound of _his _voice raised in anger. She will make it right. She can't ... _I do not wish to see him fall, but I cannot stand to have him hate me. Chaos was right, he is the blade at my throat, the knife in my back. And still I will follow him._

The Emperor rises and motions for her to follow. Fulgrim watches them leave, unsure. (Had he disappointed Father? Was there something he should have seen?)

Once they are out of earshot, the Emperor addresses her again. His voice is gentle, fatherly, but the intent behind it is like a diamond, hard and cold.

"I can grant your wish, child," he says. "But it will be for naught if you make no attempt to understand Fulgrim."

He watches her reaction.

She bows her head. Shame. Hurt. "I... What does he want of me?" the confusion in that voice is clear, for once. Fulgrim is... has been... the cornerstone of her existence for longer than she cares to contemplate. He... she does not wish him to hate her. "What must I do?"

"My son wishes for my approval," the Emperor answers. His voice sounds sadder, older. "He has it, but he does not see it. Show him that."

There are other things, but they shall come later without interference, if he plays them right. He has played this game so many times already and at least one of the pieces is willing. The other… the other will be, once appropriately motivated.

"He will not accept you unless you serve me and only then him," he says. "Have you not seen it?"

"...I can_ appear_ to serve you and then only him." Beryl said cautiously. "But I cannot change my nature. You can read my mind, you know this best. I do not wish to lie." _I've lied too many times before already._

"It should suffice," he says. "Pledge your loyalty to him, if you wish to, but only after I call upon you."

Fulgrim needs to be prepared what shall come. There is need for subtlety. He does not wish them to know his plans. Let them think they are their own choice. It will be all the more… amusing, when he will approve of them.

"I wish you to keep an eye on her," the Emperor said to Fulgrim.

Fulgrim was surprised. Had the woman not been insolent? Father was very difficult to understand sometimes (He needed to try harder. He was so far away from his goal. Always so far away.) "Of course, but is she not...?"

"A danger?" the Emperor asked. "Perhaps. But I trust you to deal with any threat."

Fulgrim nodded. Of course he would. He would do better then anyone else (and prove he is not weak). "Is there anything else?"

"If you'd manage to provide me with a sample of her DNA?" the Emperor replied. "I believe she will be quite willing to part with a lock of her hair, if you ask."

Fulgrim blinked. His lips twitched into a smile. "I'll do my best, Father."

{oOo}

She went to one knee, before Fulgrim, as the other Primarchs stared, surprised. They had heard her words earlier. One of the sons, she had said. Horus had honestly thought it would be him or Sanguinus, since they were held highest in Father's regard, but... Fulgrim?

"Milord, please let me serve you." She said quietly. It wasn't the oath that her heart wanted to say, _Let me be yours, and yours only_, it whispered. _Let me burn the world to ashes for your smile, please keep me..._ But... it would have to do. For now.

"Rise," Fulgrim said. "I accept your service."

He felt… odd. He noticed Horus' look and a part of him rejoiced. (Horus was always better, but not today.) A part of him was dismayed that he had somehow usurped Horus' place. However, Father had asked _him_. Not Horus. Not Sanguinius.

The Emperor watched.

She rose. "Thank you, milord." she said, quietly, suddenly unsure what to do now. She fell upon formality as her refuge**. **"What are your commands, milord?" _Your wishes,_ a part of her whispered. _Point me at something,_ her mind whispered. _That I may strike it down and prove myself worthy of your regard._ She would join his guard, of course, but she hadn't seen them here, yet.

"At ease," Fulgrim commanded.

Already? She had been barely accepted into his service and she was asking to be commanded so soon? This was a ceremony, was it not? She was only supposed to—but maybe it was the protocol on her homeplanet? After all, the multitude of cultures sometimes did things like that.

"We will discuss your duties later."

Horus couldn't make heads or tails of it. Why not him? Why not Sanguinius? What did Fulgrim have, that the stranger knelt to him, and yet showed no other Primarch any repect of the kind Horus was accustomed to?

For a man who was used to being first in line, Horus could not understand why she had gone to one of their weakest members, rather than to him. Or, for that matter, Sanguinius. Who was known for his kindness, and beauty.

It made no sense at all.

Fulgrim and his honour guard left soon after. The ceremony was over and he did have to tell Beryl what her duties were.

Horus' behaviour bothered him. Why was he angry? Yes, the Emperor's Children were still small, but did he think they did not deserve Father's favour? (He didn't want Horus mad at him. He wanted Horus to like him.)

"For now, I will want you to observe and learn," Fulgrim said. "You will accompany me during debriefings and certain other duties."

"As you wish, milord." Beryl felt relieved that he hadn't called her out on her breach of protocol. And more relieved that events hadn't gone too badly. As commanded, she paid the utmost attention to her lord's wishes and the protocol of his guard, though sometimes the way he spoke abraded her nerves. Honestly, she hadn't even believed it was possible... but apparently it _was_.

{oOo}

Chaos smiles at Beryl, reclining into the soft couch much like a cat. Chin resting on top of his hand, he asks, "So, is serving _him_ what you imagined it to be, little pawn?"  
It pities her, even if it mocks her gently. She is a child, after all, and children know not what they grasp for until they have it. Until they burn their hands.

The memory drifts in, unlooked for. _Her_ voice, gentle, warm. chiding him fondly._"Silly little one. don't you know fire burns you? Having is not always as good as wanting, you know."_

"No." she says, her voice quiet. He knows she hurts. He can see it, smell it, like blood in the water. "I don't think he likes me much."

The pain in its... _his_... heart starts again and he resists the urge to grasp it. It comes and goes and it... he cannot stop it. _He misses her so much._

But _she_ is not here, and now he has a little fledgeling to care for, soft and broken winged and.. He will do for it what he could not do for_ her_.

Chaos reaches deep inside of its own chest. With a sickening sound, it takes out a gem, shaped like a faceted flower, a design copied from the little moon princess.

"Here." he says. She is a child. She knows not what she will do, and it will serve him in the end; so why not?

Besides. _She _had always soothed him with sweets and toys after he'd foolishly gotten himself hurt. _She_would have approved.

"This should help you earn his favor, little one. It can burn planets down to ash, silence armies."

His smile is a quirk of the lips. Not that the man would appreciate it; but still. Best to soothe the fledgeling. He doesn't want it crying all over him.

He avoids thinking of Beryl as a child. But it stays still, in the middle of the room, like an elephant.

He has a child. Does that mean he has responsibilities, now? _Mother did. Motherisgone._

{oOo}


	3. Toy Soldiers: Settling In

{oOo}

Beryl tried not to be distracted by the many works of art along the hallway they were walking in, even as Fulgrim began to point out places that he and his officers would be going to. Silently, she focused on his words, with almost unnerving focus, though the visor she still wore may have added to the creepy factor. And yet. Even with the visor, Fulgrim could probably tell she wasn't used to places like this. So richly decorated. So ornate. So overblown and barely saved from being gaudy.  
The wealth of entire nations adorned his ship and he used it like this? A part of Beryl wondered if this had always been under the veneer of the man she fell in love with, still loves.

"Are you not used to bright light?" Fulgrim asked somewhere between a landscape of one the planets his Children had conquered and bust. It was disconcerting but he suddenly realized he had no idea whose bust it was. He glanced at it, trying to remember the face. Still, it was a good sculpture, so he wasn't about to get rid of it just because he couldn't remember it.

(Keep away from bare walls. He doesn't need to work day and night, fighting to keep ages old systems from falling apart. He doesn't have to eat nutrition bars and protein paste, he doesn't have to think about saving every single thing.)

For a moment Beryl was surprised by the nonsequitur, then she caught on. "The visor is a part of my armor, my lord. And it filters light well enough." Somewhat sheepishly, she added, "It is also easier to hide behind."  
Damn Slaaneshi. She was still getting used to the idea that not everyone was going to use the look in her eyes to troll her.

"I am from a ... rather" she searched for an appropriate word. "less sophisticated world, my lord. I am still adjusting to the surroundings." Also, she very carefully did not mention, Fabius Bile was looking at her like she was a steak and she desired to punch him through a wall.

For a moment, several conflicting notions fought in Fulgrim's mind. On the one hand, it reminded him of Konrad (poor Konrad, it was all his fault, why couldn't he help?), but on the other hand, he couldn't help but think of Mortarion and his stupid stubborn refusal to accept any sort of decoration.

"Chemos wasn't very sophisticated before joining the Imperium either," he finally replied. He smiled at the thought—it really was glorious to be part of Father's work. (To be alive, not just living. To have a purpose higher then surviving another day)

Technically, Beryl thought, sophistication hadn't been the term she'd really meant, but hey, he was smiling.  
Gorgeously smiling. She could feel her brain cells melting right there. Yeah.  
Damn, she was blushing under the visor, wasn't she?  
Thank goodness for the visor!  
Chemos, she remembered, vaguely, was doing very well nowadays. "Thank you for taking the time to show me around, milord. I would probably get lost very easily in this place..It's very.. " Quick, find a word, find a word..."grand." And huge. And built for people almost twice her size. And ostentatious. And overblown.  
She stuffed the thoughts away hurriedly, head tilted slightly and clearly completely fascinated by him.

Fulgrim looked pleased. Admittedly, not extremely so, but it was a rather noticeable change from the Fulgrim she would remember. The one earlier would just take her approval for granted. This one only seemed to, but clearly was at least slightly worried about the opinion of others.

"Glad to be of assistance," he said, favouring her with a grin. "If you have any problems with the manuals, you can always ask one of the Marines on duty—they should be able to call somebody who can help you. I wish I could do it personally, but I have other duties I have to attend to."

Clearly, he had not noticed the blush.

The grin he favored her with was a thing of beauty, and certainly helped keep her in a state of euphoria long enough to perform her newly given duties.

At least until she noticed Fabius staring at her again. Godsblasted pervert.

{oOo}


	4. Toy Soldiers: Set Up the Bomb

{oOo}

On the fifth day of being stalked, her alarms rang loud enough to wake her from sleep, only to look up at Bile's face. Naturally, she reacted as any sane person would ever do. She screamed bloody murder and went after him with a... large mallet of crystal.

Dodging the first two blows, he was felled by the third. 'That... did not go as planned,' Bile mused, as he rubbed his bruises later. Who knew that women could be so violent?

Fulgrim dreamt. That, in itself was nothing odd. He was in his chambers, but they were odd, wrong. There were no pictures, only horizons painted on the ceiling. Two different beds, a heavy desk… And books, so many books, quite a lot of them on navigation, ship construction and similar things.

He faced himself, but he was wrong too. His armor was simpler, less ornate. The sword at his side was not Fireblade. The other Fulgrim had his hair tied into a simple braid and looked somehow… tired? Older?

They looked at each other-

Then the alarms rang and Fulgrim woke up instantly. The memories of the dream scattered, as he grabbed his sword. There was nothing here, so the alarm must have rung—

Ah. Beryl.

Several seconds later, Beryl was treated to the sight of Fulgrim's bare chest. So was Fabius Bile.

"What is going on here?"

"There was a pervert in my room when I woke up." Beryl said flatly, visor gone, hair loose and mussed. She slipped back to attention, back straight, giant mallet still in hand. "To be precise, I know I locked the door, and when I woke up, Bile was leaning over me with a scissors."

"Then I screamed and hit him." Into a wall, she did not say.

Beryl could be forgiven for assuming that Bile was a pervert, because the nightclothes she was wearing were certainly not regulation. However, it took a supreme amount of effort to keep her eyes on the wall, and not on her master's bare chest. Really, really, gorgeous bare chest.

Bile would have hidden the evidence; a stolen keycard, but Beryl had her foot on top of it. And incidentally on top of some of Bile's fingers to boot.

Fulgrim blinked, then brushed his hand through his hair. A pervert. He was woken up by a damn pervert. Then his eyes fell on said pervert. To say he was not amused, was like saying that Angron was peevish.

"Chief Apothecary, what are you doing here?" he asked.

His Chief Apothecary was a pervert. He could bet none of his brothers had to ever deal with something like that. Bile was a very good Aphothecary, but… Fulgrim felt the urge to bang his head against the nearest flat surface. This was so nightmarishly embarrassing.

Bile flushed. "I was merely going to take a DNA sample!" he snapped.

Beryl frowned. Her eyes were vibrantly purple and filled with a rage fit for Angron. "Leaning over my bed, while I was asleep, in clothing I did not intend to ever be seen out in." Her voice is a hiss, much like the steam making its way from a geyser vent. "I caught him with this keycard, which is firstly, not mine, and secondly, not supposed to be in his possession, am I correct, my lord?"

"It would enable the betterment of the geneseed!" Bile protested.

"Geneseeds come from _males. _" Beryl's hands clearly twitched as her grip changed, tightened on the mallet handle. "I am very much _female_. My lord, may I please hit him? Please?"

Her clothing was indeed something that most wouldn't even have considered appearing out in public in, being as it was a man's shirt, with the top two buttons unbuttoned. She wore shorts which had clearly been an afterthought, if the way the pervert in question was positioned as if to take a peek with the slightest move of the head... which Bile did now while trying to crane his head enough to meet Fulgrim's gaze. Beryl turned redder and thanked the gods she'd worn the shorts so quickly.

Bloody Warp. Bloody fucking Warp on rollerskates. His Chief Aphothecary was indeed a pervert and couldn't think of a good excuse. Fulgrim wasn't sure if he should cry or laugh, or be angry. The last option won in the end, because the other two were too embarrassing.

Bile suddenly found himself gripped by the throat and raised effortlessly in the air. _"Don't lie, Bile," _Fulgrim hissed. "You have overstepped your bounds by far. She is under my care—what made you think it was a good idea to sneak up here in the middle of the night? You. Have. Disgraced. Me."

He looked at Beryl. She was upset. Therefore, he was not going to growl at her and point out it was his Legion and she was not going to discipline his men.

Oh, yes, Angry Fulgrim was scary. Was also damn hot, though Beryl focused to squashing those Slaaneshi tendencies. I am one with my sword, she reminded herself. My libido is not supposed to send me after him until we know each other.

No. Breath.

_Babiesbabiesbabies... _

NO. Breath!

Bile wheezed .Flailed. "She's ... special. _Psyker_. Needed samples. Muscle would have been best. Blood. Bone. Wasn't cooperating when I asked. Avoids...Avoids me like plague."

Beryl folded her arms, eyes narrowed, waiting for the beatdown, either hers or his.

"Ex..Experiment. Would have shown you. Have... New geneseeds in the lab. "

Geneseeds tainted by xeno genes, Beryl would have bet her spare pair of brassieres on it. She might actually _win_.

It was the wrong answer. Fulgrim did not take well to being kept in the dark. Fabius Bile flew through the door and stopped on the wall only because it was reinforced. His body made rather a dent though. It also damaged irreparably several priceless artworks.

"I don't need a Chief Aphothecary who won't listen to orders," Fulgrim growled, emerging through the broken door. "Take him from my sight."

The last words were directed at the Phoenix Guard, who had also arrived at the scene of alarm. The Marines silently followed their master's orders.

For a moment, Fulgrim stood motionless, watching them depart. Then he looked at Beryl. "Father entrusted your safety to me," he said tonelessly. "From today, you will be staying in my chambers."

He was not going to fail.

Beryl winced at the sound of precious artifacts breaking as she did up the two buttons on her shirt. Only when she was sure that no one would be seeing down her cleavage did she bow to her master, in gratitude. "Thank you, my lord."

{oOo}


	5. Toy Soldiers: The Clean Up

{oOo}

Fulgrim stared at Bile's laboratory, his expression blank of any emotions. In itself, it held nothing that would infuriate him—Bile's quest to perfect the geneseed of the Legion was… understandable. Not acceptable, of course, as it implied the Emperor's creation was not perfect, but he could see why Bile would want to work on it, nonetheless.

It was the notes he found.

Bile went as far as adding strains of Xeno DNA to the geneseed. None of his Children had been corrupted yet, but… His own Chief Apothecary. He had trusted Bile.

He placed the data-slate on an operating table. After all, he needed the evidence—he couldn't just demote and kill his Chief Apothecary like that. (It was pity. Bile was brilliant. Just like a broken mirror.)

He would make all the proper files, so that it was perfectly clear that Bile needed to be punished. (They'd still think him inferior, a poor judge of character. He was never going to be as good a general as his brothers.)

He smashed his fist against the wall.

Beryl winced inwardly from behind her visor. She'd never liked nor trusted Bile and was glad to see him go. More glad, really, because she knew he was on the risk list, the list of people who would inevitably fall to the Ruinous Powers here, one way or another. He would have hurt Fulgrim more, in the long run, had he been retained.

But Fulgrim was hurting, right now, and the look in his eyes, the way his shoulders tensed, hurt her as well, for his sake. Still she maintained her silence and deliberately paid his discomfort no heed. He would not thank her for noticing it? She was as yet unsure.  
All she knew was that she wished to make his hurting stop.

But what could she do for him?  
...Her capabilities were mostly for War, this time around. She felt so horribly unsure. All she could do was bring in the next batch of notes gleaned from the interrogators, and hope this didn't make it worse.

...Where the hells was she going to find a replacement apothecary for him? And worse, he wasn't the only one who would be needing assistance. If what she remembered was true, then Corax, too, would be having a problem with the geneseed soon.

"Leave," Fulgrim said. He didn't want company now. "Take the data slates and bring them to my study."

He would have to read them. His stomach protested at the thought. How did he miss something like this? His own Chief Apothecary. He didn't like thinking about it, because it lead to other unpleasant thoughts. If he misjudged so badly with Bile, how many other officers in his Legion were poor choices? No. No, no, no. He couldn't have chosen so badly.

But he did, didn't he?

Why wasn't she leaving yet?

...A part of her wanted to hug him. Another wanted to glass some planets in his name. Instead,she bowed quietly and left, as directed, still somewhat frustrated. Beyond words. Once she had left the room, she considered her options.

1. Stress bake. Offer him the results.  
2. Send her constructed forces to take over a planet for him. Offer him results.  
3. Do both. Goddamn you Bile. Maybe cut off your head, too, offer him results.

...She would need advice. A lot of advice.

{oOo}


	6. Toy Soldiers: Down the Rabbit Hole

{oOo}

...After quietly contacting him, she concluded Chaos was of no help whatsoever.  
"Glass a few planets in his name, bring him tribute in skulls!" he had said, and she had wanted to rub her temples to ward off the resulting pain.  
No. She needed SANE advice.  
Now who could she possibly.. Oh. Oh.  
But wait, he was an eldritch horror. Fulgrim wouldn't thank her for asking him for help or letting on that he had... problems.  
Hm.. option 2 then?

Chaos boggled at her for a long while. "Let me get this straight. You wish to summon a healer from your own universe." he said slowly. "An Apothecary."

"There used to be an easily stressed fellow back home. Very skilled, but not.. very brave, if you know what I'm saying." Beryl pointed out. "And Fulgrim needs one. Even for an interim."  
"...You don't mean that poor bastard who tended to shriek in terror and hide behind shrubbery, do you?" Chaos asked, almost feeling pity for the man.  
"...Well, he was competent." She pointed out  
"And easily terrified!" Chaos shot back. "But if you wish it, I can hardly stop you. You'll need a few corpses."  
"Why on earth would I need corpses to summon anything?" she asked, puzzled.  
"Energy." Chaos pointed out. "It's consumed by the process. Moving things between universes is tricky and expensive, and if you'd prefer life energy you could use that, but corpses are cheaper. Also, corpses can be broken down by the Gate."  
"Sometimes I wonder about your methods." she said sourly. "and then I remember you're the enemy of all life and of course you'd suggest this shit. Fine. I'll.. see what I can do. He's fairly light, isn't he? Do I need more than 1 corpse? Does it have to be previously sentient?"  
"You can use animal corpses or Xenos if you like." Chaos grinned. "But they have to weigh the same."  
"Fine." she said bluntly. "I'll do it. Now give me the information."

"...I hate you so much." Nefer told her, point blank, the moment he was summoned, disheveled, eyes still in shock. "That felt like I was being raped in so many ways I cannot describe." he shuddered. "What the hells do you want with me, anyway? It's not like I'm qualified to handle Marines."

"You're sane, you know how to make good baked goods and you're a good counselor." she told him. "Also, you were somewhat of a genius in genetics."  
"...You want me to work with Marine geneseed?" he asked, somewhat horrified. "That would get me killed!"  
"Not if I hide you." Chaos grinned. "And don't worry, I promise you won't need your shrubbery. All you have to do, is figure out how to fix a few genetic problems for me, and I'll make sure you have a nice, safe place to hide, how about it?"

"Why didn't you just bring Darien here?" Nefer bemoaned. "I.. alright, I'm capable. But I'm not capable of combat. I freeze up when faced with Marines. Darien's much braver!"

"He's also problematic." Chaos pointed out, and refused to clarify, even as he 'arranged' for the accomodations needed.

In the end, Nefer was forced to agree to it, if only because he was  
1. Surrounded by Marines. Out there. Beyond Chaos' influence.  
2. Unable to go back.  
3. In need of accomodations.

Beryl left him with slide-samples in the lab Chaos dumped him in, and, once beyond Chaos' influence of utter invisibility and silence, went back to her rest after a bath.

It had finally occurred to her that she might have more uses for this problem than she'd originally thought.  
After all, couldn't this Terra have a Senshi too? Or. Be capable of supporting an imported one?  
And hadn't it been theorized that Terra of her universe DID have a Senshi, only nobody had found her yet?  
Hm...

Later, Beryl came by to visit Fulgrim with a tray of the results of her stress-baking with Nefer. Mostly cookies. She would have brought him skulls too, but cookies, as she well knew, would be easier to sneak in.

{oOo}


	7. Toy Soldiers: Skeletons in the Closet

{oOo}

Fulgrim was starting to understand Angron. He felt like chewing on his desk, he was so angry. The worst part though was that he was angry with himself.

(He wasn't a good general. He should have stayed on Chemos.)

Bile shouldn't have been made Chief Apothecary. And if Bile was a mistake he probably made others. He should check once he was done with Bile.

The notes were so horribly hard to read. He understood most of them—that was the problem.

He buried his face in his hands, growling under his breath in frustration, just as somebody opened the door.

Beryl prepared to have to flee if he got angry, and then screwed up her courage and went in anyway. The sight of him growling in frustration pulled her three ways. It frightened her because he could do a lot of damage. It aroused her, because she was in love with him, and she wanted him so blasted bad that the sound of his voice practically reverberated in her bones pleasantly... and the third was concern. She wanted to make things better for him. Silently, she put the cookies and recaf she'd gotten on the cleanest table she could find within his long reach, that wasn't his desk. She didn't want to disturb or upset him, after all.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a surprisedly tired tone. She was a distraction and he was starting to think he needed one. Maybe the whole situation wouldn't look so bad, once he stopped thinking about it for a while?

"I brought you some refreshments, my lord." she said quietly, unsure how to react, but glad that he didn't seem to be angry at her for it. "Since the.. work might keep you occupied until later..." and you might miss meals. She knew he was capable of such a thing when he was very interested or very determined to do his work.

"Thank you," he said, looking up. Food sounded like a good idea. A very good idea, even. He was quite hungry. He blinked as he looked at her. "Can you tell me more about yourself?"

He didn't know almost anything about her, didn't he? Why? Why hadn't he ever asked?

_Oh.  
_

_Oh shit_.

Beryl tilted her head to the side slightly as she thought over what to tell him. She was very glad she'd opted for her visor today. It would be easier this way. Best to cut down on the details.

"I was born on to a fairly well off family"_ of nobles on Earth in the Silver Millennium... _"who could afford to have me educated and who could afford to indulge me in a few hobbies." She said quietly. _And intended to marry me off to another noble once I was proficient in them. The house fell in favor and became commoners. I ended up a servant. _"I am ... what would be considered mediocre in the fine arts. Most of what I have trained for is intended to be used in combat." _Because I wanted to bring the Lunarians down. More fool I. At least they're useful to you now, my lord. _"My homeworld was rather rural, and we didn't have much knowledge of the worlds beyond our own; most people preferred it that way." _Because no one wanted to face up to the fact the Moon Kingdom outnumbered and outgunned us. _"After some time, I went off-planet. The other planets of the Imperium were very surprising to me, and I suffered culture shock." _Because I don't even belong in this dimension and I'm afraid I screwed up the past, and present because of my foolishness. _

"I see..." he nodded. Well, he didn't really see, but that was so very little that she told him. "Can you tell me more about your family?"

It seemed like a good start. After all, it would be the beginning.

"My parents were very kind, and I think they were angling to have me married off early. In the end, we had a disagreement, and I left." she said quietly. That the disagreement happened to be about the crown prince in her previous life, she did not mention. That she had parents in this world and her short statement could apply to her relationship with them here for the short time she'd spent in this world, she carefully did not look at. A part of her wanted to say that when she'd been reincarnated they, her first family, were all gone, but she refused to give in to it. She might get caught out, since that was, after all, another lifetime. Another planet. another place.

God, This was so awkward. So many past things she didn't want to get into explaining.

"So, you come from a feudal world?" he asked, frowning. It seemed like a logical conclusion given the implication of arranged marriage. Of course, the institution appeared on non-feudal worlds too. "Actually, I don't think you ever said from which world you came."

It was inevitable that he would catch on this. After all, it was the sort of thing that came up in conversations. Places of origin were important.

_Oh. Shit._

{oOo}


	8. TS: Eldritch Horrors and Evil Overlords

{oOo}

The Emperor was happily working on checking out her dna sequence using the hair sample that Fulgrim had brought him.

The Emperor of Man was finding out some very interesting things. Firstly, it looked as if Beryl came from a specifically engineered bloodline, holding those strange psyker powers. Secondly this lineage made her more difficult for Daemons of the Warp to find. Thirdly, the powers could be passed down to any children. And fourthly, her body was stronger than one would have expected from an unaugmented human because of this. This seemed.. very promising.

The Emperor examined the samples, trying to determine the best course of action. While he still considered encouraging Fulgrim to impregnate the woman, his research indicated she was not very fertile. Given that he had made sure his sons were not able to sire children easily, it would probably take a long time.

Perhaps too long. There were other options. Cloning, manipulating her DNA to produce fertile psykers of her kind. All of these would take time, as well. Maybe it would be best to take all routes.

Perhaps he assigned the woman to Fulgrim prematurely. Just how fixated was she on him?

Still, so far Fulgrim had not failed him.

Still, perhaps a little talk with the woman would be fine? He had something she wanted, and she had something he needed to ensure that Humanity would prosper. Trade would be a natural concept.

Beryl had been a monster beyond definition in her first life and was still a monster in this one. She admitted it. It hadn't had anything to do with her parents in either life, it was all her. She was sure she deserved no forgiveness, and equally sure that she was doomed.

And now that Fulgrim desired to know where she came from, she was inevitably doomed.

And yet, as she stared at him, clearly flustered, searching for words, she prayed still, silently to any god that might hear her 'Please get me out of this?'

"Milord, the Emperor wishes to speak with the lady Beryl?" came a voice from behind the door.

...Apparently her diligence was rewarded, or the gods found her funny, because that was the point at which the messenger with the Emperor's summons came in.

Thank the gods! Wait... Should she thank Chaos or not?

"Go," Fulgrim nodded at her. This could wait, it was merely idle chit-chat. He still had work to do. Funny, he actually felt better now.

The Emperor awaited Beryl. He had been considering what action to take and finally settled upon an idea. Perhaps... First he had to see how she would react.

Beryl's alacrity in arrival was probably not what the Emperor would have expected, had he been a bit more human. However, he'd saved her metaphorical ass, and so she was more than willing to accommodate him. In this state of events, the Emperor now had a significant advantage.

"You summoned me, my lord?" Beryl volunteered, still somewhat at odds with addressing the Emperor in such a manner. Or in any manner, really. Fuck. She needed to catch up on Imperial protocols.

{oOo}

Beryl's eyes narrowed slightly as she thought this over. "... I find I have no real objection to that." she admitted. It would, after all, help her kick Slaanesh and thus, Chaos in the pants, even HARDER now. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"There are several options," he replied. "Cloning. Artificial insemination-you would only have to donate ova. And, of course, you could get pregnant yourself."

The bait was there. Would she notice?

"You probably already know that I prefer the third, and that I have... designs on your son." she pointed out mildly. "But I am amenable to donating blood to help with the first. I'd be more comfortable with my ova inside myself, to be honest. More to the point I think I'm going to run into a bit of difficulty." A moment's pause. Why not go ahead and spread out all her cards? Or at least share some with him, anyway. "Firstly, I'm not from this universe, properly speaking. And secondly.. you've run through reincarnation, right?"

"Why would you ask me that?" he arched his eyebrow, watching her thoughtfully. It was proving to be an interesting conversation, it seemed. Not from this universe? His mind examined the possibility. He needed a hypothesis. He needed more data.

"...I've been reincarnated before." She stated flatly. "Twice now, I think. And I believe in that universe, I qualified as what you'd call an evil empress. It did not end well. All my memories are from there. I admire your son. Thus I wish your son to never find out about it."

Her lips curled up in a bitter smile. "This place, is, for me at least, a new start. I do not wish to befoul it with past mistakes."

"Interesting," the Emperor replied. "Do you have any proof?"

What proof can she give if not... Oh.

Oh.

She pulled out the rock that Chaos gave her, full of so much eldritch energy it could probably destroy three planets without even being depleted. She offered it up to the Emperor. "This might help. Also, I think I can.. ah... summon another being to corroborate my evidence if necessary."

Perhaps this was being too open. Nevertheless.. She didn't want to start off on a bad foot with her potential father in law.

"Also, I am capable of creating animate statues capable of thought to a... certain level." she admitted, as she conjured up an example from a black-queen chess piece. It grew in size, reshamed to be more visibly feminine, humanoid, graceful, clearly made of the same black crystal. It bowed low before him. "I used them in battle very often."

"I may ask you to summon the being later," the Emperor replied. "Now, I suppose that if you agree to trade your blood it is only fair I repaid you somehow. Do you have anything you would like to ask for?"  
If not, he had his own ideas. After all, they had a common goal, at least partially.

"Your help in covering for my deficiencies in this world, your permission to court and hopefully marry Fulgrim and a list of what planets you plan to take over so I may get started on taking them over, as ... what was that term again? A betrothal gift? For him." Beryl said immediately. "Also permission to slag each and every temple of the Ruinous Powers that I come across."

The speed of her reply was.. commendable.

"Those are acceptable terms," the Emperor replied. Betrothal gift? It was rather fortunate Chemos had no such traditions. An old, almost forgotten part of his mind supplied him with the list of cultures were the bride-or her family had to provide one.

"Good. Thank you." Beryl said, relieved. "...Damn, I still have to think of what to say to him." she was clearly still off-balance from Fulgrim's questions, whatever they may have been. "He's starting to ask about my background after Bile turned out to be... ah.. "

A pause.

"Screw it. Bile betrayed your son, and was tampering with his Legion's geneseed. The info's going to be sent to you tomorrow, as soon as Fulgrim manages to collate it all, and he's not happy. A part of me wants to disembowel Bile for making him so upset. Another says it would be better to conquer a world to try to mollify your son, and a third keeps saying things about 'brownies and comfort food'. Do you have any suggestions?"

This was possibly understandable to the emperor, who, after all, had probably had enough voices in his own head to relate to it.

The Emperor listened to her impassively. He did not show any emotions at the mention of Bile's experiments. The recruitment procedures did not prevent sociopaths and similar from being drafted to become Marines, and he was well aware of it. Perhaps Fulgrim would learn from the experience. It would be beneficial for him, his Legion and many others in the long run, if he would.

"Brownies and comfort food, as you put it, might be the most suitable option," he replied after a moment. "He can disembowel Bile on his own, and will probably do so. Planets… they would not be his, anyway. However, he does not know human comfort well. It will surprise him, I believe. Though I'd suggest a… nice tale to accompany the comfort food. Explain to him why you're offering it. He might not realize it on his own."

"Thank you, Milord." Beryl said, shoulders slumped and only a little closer to a solution than before.

{oOo}


	9. Toy Soldiers: The Clean Up II

{oOo}

Beryl made her way back to visit Fulgrim, after the rather productive discussion she'd had with his father, and still with no way to answer Fulgrim's questions.

Shit. What could she tell him? How far could she go?

...Fuck. She was already at his door.

She knocked.

"Come in," Fulgrim said. He was almost done, he thought. At least there didn't seem to be any obvious things he could add to his report. He wanted to go sleep and forget about it all, if just for a while.

"My lord, shouldn't you be resting?" Beryl asked carefully, not wanting to upset him further. He looked so tired that it made her heart hurt.

"I should," Fulgrim sighed. "Why are you asking me this?"

Because you do not look well, Beryl wanted to say. Because I am worried for you, she wanted to say.

Screw it.

"Because you look as if you need to rest, my lord, and I am worried for you." Shit, he was going to look at her funny... "Is there any way I may be of assistance?" May as well go whole hog.

"I suppose I do," Fulgrim said. For a moment he sized her up. She didn't know him very well and she seemed oddly unaffected by his presence. It probably wouldn't be that much of an assumption to think she would be more objective then one of his Marines, if he asked her for an opinion on himself. It would probably be unpleasant, but... he was tired. He was tired of feeling frustrated and betrayed and like he was suddenly walking on thin ice. "I know you hadn't been assigned long to me, but do you have any oppinions on my officers?"

Beryl carefully considered this. "Most of them that I have.. overheard, that I adore you. I personally dislike Eidolon." This partly stemmed from the fact she'd seen the bastard's file. He was a traitor, through and through in her world and though she tried to ignore it, some of that vicious hatred she felt for what he'd allowed to happen to Fulgrim in her own past-present-future was still there. "Lucius seems to be a bit more arrogant than he should be." which was saying something, coming from a newbie. Who was understating the problem. He was taking too much damn credit. She'd overheard him taking credit for things he'd worked with others on. "..Your officers are hardworking, but if they push their Marines too far, the casualty rates will be too high to be sustainable in the long run."

Fulgrim pinched the bridge of his nose. Eidolon was shaping up to be a problem-he hadn't wanted to think about it, he had hoped he would get settled into his role. And yet, it wasn't like he was blind and deaf. He knew his second Lord Commander was far less popular than Vespasian. "Lucius? You need to be a bit more precise. I think we've got three of them."

"May I?" Beryl asked him, quietly.

"Go ahead," Fulgrim said and added with a hint of wry humour. "Then I'll know whom I need to tell I am very disappointed with them."

Oh he was absolutely gorgeous, but.. well, this was work. Beryl made her way over to the table, and pulled out those who would be.. trouble. First there was the snarky lieutenant who stole credit for others kills. Then she dug out those people who she'd observed or heard involved in ... less than savory occupations. Keeping her face impassive as much as possible, she rooted out those who had been disloyal, one way or the other, and listed their crimes in this world including the abuse of power, in as dispassionate a voice as possible.

Fulgrim watched in silence, trying to remember all she was showing him. He managed to watch it all to the end without saying a word, before he finally decided it was time to eat something. For a moment, he wanted to ask her to take off the visor, but it passed. It would be a stupid request anyway.

"Milord." Beryl said cautiously. "Perhaps you might want to eat dinner with the others?"

If this got her into trouble, well, at least she tried.

At least no one was in here but the two of them, and it was rather warm... She took off her visor, dismissing it without a verbal command. ...Her eyes were warm, as they gazed upon his face, worried and... gentle. She was worried for him. He still didn't look well.

She looked surprisingly different without the visor. He had expected her to still appear business-like and composed, not worried. "Not today. I can eat here."

He glanced at her, hesitating. Human contact would be welcome and she did look worried, and he was still feeling bad about that data sample business. "If you want to, you can stay."

The surprise on his face was adorable, and her eyes lit up with gentle amusement without the visor there to hide them. "Thank you, my lord." she told him quietly. A part of her was glad he'd forgotten his original line of questioning. A part of her worried he'd ask about her absence. She didn't know what to tell him about it.

{oOo}


	10. Toy Soldiers: Solving By Substitution

{oOo}

Nefer stood, shaky and pale, before Lord Corax, and mentally cursed all redheads, all primarchs and all maniacs in robes.

The Raven Guard's primarch was gigantic, and the stark, unrelieved terror Nefer was feeling turned his bowels to water. And yet the smaller, golden-haired male managed to say, "I'm the Apothecary sent here, to look after your legion, my lord."

The tall Primarch gave him a curious look, then a more measuring one. "I am glad you have come." He said finally. Then he showed the strange, timid Apothecary to his laboratory and the geneseed samples.

The corrupted geneseed samples.

Nefer swallowed hard, and bent his head down in a gesture of respect, and tried to keep his knees from shaking.

Once the Raven Guard leader had left him there, alone, in the labratory, Nefer slumped into his chair, shaking in suppressed terror... and then he took up his tools and went to work.

It was a good thing that there had been a cure for the Raven Guard's problems in their geneseed, back in his own dimension. He remembered it very well, and bent his back to the work dilligently, as quickly as he could, without sacrificing efficiency or quality to speed.

He had to finish as early as possible, before the Ruinous Powers' emissary could make his way here, to fuck up the genepool further.

The geneseed the strange, timid new Apothecary worked with turned out to be exceptional. Corax raised his head from the reports, after having examined the new Astartes themselves and allowed his lips to curve up in a smile.

"Your work is exemplary, Apothecary." He told the timid young man. "I shall have to thank my brother, Fulgrim, for lending you to me."

"Ah, that won't be necessary, sir." Nefer said, wide eyed, almost as a squeak.

Corax wondered why his new Apothecary was so timid... but then, the boy was a genius, for his age. He would keep him. "Relax." he said, as kindly as he could. "No one is going to hurt you."

Nefer swallowed hard, thought over his next words and mentally prayed to the Omnissiah, the Emperor and the Ancient gods of his people from before the Imperium assimilated his planet, before he spoke. "There.." he swallowed hard. "There is a cultist saboteur being sent here by an enemy, to ruin your geneseed. I was sent here to tend to the problem before they c-can ruin your legion beyond repair, but I'm not combat t-trained, and they could likely have me killed."

He swallowed hard again. "I would p-prefer not to be noticed at all, honestly, because it will ensure they don't go after me." His voice was small, and frightened. It matched his eyes, wide and terrified, and the way his hands wrung his apothecary robes.

Corax frowned at his words. "... No harm will come to you, I swear it."

On the day the Ruinous Power's emissary arrived, with a similar excuse to the one that Nefer had used, the creature was immediately sent packing by an angry Primarch's fist and shiny, sharp Chainsword.

Enraged, the being revealed itself to be a strange crow-like being... and was mobbed to death by angry Astartes while their new apothecary cowered under his desk.

{oOo}


	11. Empty Men: Totems and Customs

{oOo}

"Who designed your bloodline? It's magnificent work."

Magnificent was an understatement—she was resistant to the perils of the Warp. Replicating it and spreading it through the human genome would give mankind a significant advantage over xenos and warp entities.

The words caught Beryl by surprise. Though by now she supposed she should have expected it. He was more Eldritch Horror than human, after all.

"Ah…" Beryl searched for words. "A great and powerful being who took human shape before, in my home universe."

"Can you summon her?" The Emperor's eyes disturbed her slightly, the clinical gaze he held her in made her feel much like a butterfly on a pin and yet she answered.

"That depends. Can you get me as close to the bedrock of this planet as possible?" she retorted.

The Emperor seemed confused, inasmuch as a being like him could feel anything. Still, even with the complications having such a creature around would be a welcome way to facilitate the implementation of his plans. It was proving to overweight his worries.

She clarified. "To summon her, I'd need to be as close to the ground as possible. And when I say ground, I mean natural rock or soil."

"...Would the Himalayas do?" He asked. Beryl contemplated this carefully, before she answered. "Very well actually."

The Emperor continued, "Why do you need to be near it?"

The more he knew, the better he would be prepared. The better he was prepared, the better he could plan. The better the plan, the higher the possibility that the being would join his cause.

Beryl tilted her head slightly as she searched for a way to answer this. "Bedrock. She draws strength from the soil of a planet. The closer to fertile soil she is, the less likely she'll go berserk at me for summoning her."

The Emperor looked disturbed, "There is no fertile soil left on Terra. The world is barren." That this woman was worried about the summons going berserk painted an ill picture. A powerful mad entity wracking havoc on Terra was out of question. As intriguing and tempting the project was, he had to think about the good of humanity first and foremost. The Imperium was the future and it needed its capital planet. "I must retract my request and order than you never summon her."

"She would be more useful to you, than I." Beryl said quietly, though her shoulders relaxed slightly. "The ... being I did manage to summon said she might be pacified by tribute of corpses." Her lips twisted in a wry smile. "To which end I... began collecting the corpses of aliens slain by the Imperium. Human life is too valuable to waste, after all, but... she is powerful enough to be worth the biomass cost."

The Emperor's brow furrowed "Why?"

It was not her decision to make.

Beryl grinned ferally in spite of herself.

"Because she is capable of slaying a warp god, should she be at full strength." She continued, honestly, "And Fulgrim would be safer without Slaanesh in the universe."

His spine straightened. Or perhaps she was viewing him in a too human way? "How?" That was...on his level of power at the very least. And so very useful. A part of him wondered how would be to meet his equal, one that would work with him, not against him.

Beryl cast her mind back to coherently phrase the fragments of knowledge she remembered, before she began to speak again."She is strong enough to turn a planet against an invading force, if she is well-fed. She controls evolution on a very large scale back in my home universe."

Her brow furrowed.

"But she has to be fed. and if Terra really is barren ,then the corpses I hoard would have at least cut her urge to feed down until she can be unleashed on the enemy."

The Emperor frowned. That… did not look promising. Corruption was always lurking in the Warp…

"You offer me a double edged blade. One that could slay Warp Gods," if that was true, "but could easily bring destruction down upon my work. Can she be contained?"

Beryl dug down deep before answering him this time. " She may be.. will be weak when first summoned. Contained on Terra, yes. Bound to service, yes. She's.. human in shape most of the time. Her way of thinking is alien, though." She clarified. "If Terra is barren, she will be both weakened, and berserk with pain."

She felt the Emperor's speculative gaze alight on her fully as she spoke. She gave him a shrug.

"I sought to look up all available weapons against the Chaos of this realm, and hoard supplies in case of such an eventuality."

The Emperor contemplated this. "How?" To all those questions. This was too monumentous to dismiss out of hand, but first he needed to have a hand on this weapon, this beast, to restrain it. Still, there always was a leash, the problem was finding it. If Beryl could not provide him with one, he would still have to decline the offer. It would be to costly and to absorbing to have to learn how to bind such a being to his service on the fly.  
Beryl would have taken offense had she fully known what the Emperor was thinking.

"She takes the form of a human female, but can be bound if she is first fed to repletion and then takes a consort from this planet." A moment's pause. "The ruling family of my homeworld in the other universe was descended from her."

The Emperor understood now. "...You're talking about a sacred marriage."

Such an old concept. He remembered many cultures that practiced it. The symbolism grated at him, but he squashed the thought. His comfort was secondary to the good of mankind. There was no sacrifice that would be too great.

Beryl nodded, relieved that he apparently understood. "It is one of the reasons most of the females were rulers, rather than the men. Female line holds her gifts better."

Beryl nodded firmly. "It would work. The question is whether I have collected enough biomass that I will survive the summoning."

The Emperor dismissed her.

"I will consider it, give me a report on her powers, personality, and though process. In the mean time, continue collecting the biomass"

"As you wish, my lord." Beryl bowed low and left, as commanded. She knew this... would be difficult.

But this could be worth it. Beryl thought. For Fulgrim. To finally buy his safety, to erect another Great Wall between him and the Ruinous Powers.

{oOo}


	12. Empty Men: Unusual Gifts

{oOo}

Laer's inhabitants had long been reduced to mulch, its temple bombed to molten glass. But it had not been alone in the sector. There were still other planets of xenos similarly tainted, and Beryl had known it.

That was part of why she'd come with Fulgrim, after all.

So when she caught sight of the information they'd managed to collect on the newest planet, and saw how similar it was, to Laer, to its natural beauty, its alien inhabitants' strength, she was already on guard.

And working. Even as her Lord began to make the plans to take the place over, Beryl contacted the Embodiment of Chaos she'd bound and gave him the order... To go in there first.

And kill all the goddamn inhabitants, for biomass. Bugger all that sentimental shit, the sooner the universe was clean of possible threats to Fulgrim, the better.

"If you find any temples of the Ruinous Powers there," Beryl kept her hand fisted in the soft silks of Ruin's robes, "Slag them. Immediately. Harvest the inhabitants for Biomass. Let nothing sentient survive."

Ruin grinned, wide, feral, insane. His exquisitely expressive voice was lifted up in vicious, angelically sweet glee. "A whole planet for me to Ruin? Oh, dear little bird, you spoil me so much."

As he gave in to mad laughter she dragged him down to eye level. "No property damage just..."

"Just the inhabitants, I know, little bird." Chaos felt so damn proud. A proud father, coaxing its child to eat of the flesh of the enemy. "Have I ever told you I love you yet? If not, I'm telling you now. You make me so proud!"

Beryl resisted the urge to facepalm. "Just... Go. Finish it quickly, I desire to give it to my master unspoiled."

"As you command." Chaos' grin was shark-like even as he vanished into the dark.

Fulgrim was grateful for an opportunity to send his Legion into war again. The situation was tense after he was done with reorganizing. Not everyone was happy. In itself it was not unexpected, but his Children needed to something to vent their frustration on. Xenos would be a perfect target.

The reports indicated the world would be beautiful and for this he was glad. For every world like Chemos that was brought into their fold, he hoped to find one's that would be able to give something as soon as they joined. Even if it was just beauty.

It was odd though—he hadn't been nearly as loath to think of Chemos as he had been when he was young ever since he finished reorganizing. Maybe it was because he had to draw on skills he had gained so long ago? They weren't so useless after all.

He peered over the holomap, carefully considering how to best approach it. Drawing a plan would take some time.

He nodded at Vespasian, when his Lord Commander indicated he wished to speak. Julius, newly promoted, looked ill at ease still. Hopefully, he would grow accustomed to his role soon—Fulgrim did not want to go through another Eidolon anytime soon.

"I suggest we draw the populace into the cities," Vespasian spoke. "Then we can bomb them from orbit."

Fulgrim frowned. It would take time to act on this plan. It would be so costly. Minimizing costs was good, he could not help but to think. Perhaps risking some collateral damage was worth reducing the costs.

How odd. He was starting to think in administrative categories again.

Still…

Beryl closed her eyes beneath the visor and tried to relax as her lord began to hash out battle plans. It was hard. Her nerves were so far on edge that she felt as if she'd lash out at anything that moved... and all she could do was hope that Ruin wouldn't be too damn blatant.

It turned out to be lost hope.

"Milord." An aide said hesitantly, bringing a sheaf of papers to Fulgrim. "It seems one of the cities has been.. obliterated. Its inhabitants have been exterminated."

_'Well, shit.'_ Beryl thought, furiously. She was about to get reamed sideways because the moron hadn't gone with quick and silent and instead had gone with explosive and blatant!

"Well," Fulgrim said, blinking. "Hopefully we'll get our job done without having to lift a finger?"

He was not nearly as amused as he suggested, but the attempt at humour was the only thing that kept him from snapping. Damn it, he needed this war—his Children needed to go into action and focus on something else than the recent rough period.

"Do we know what is going on exactly?" he asked.

"The xenos are fighting amongst themselves?" Vespasian suggested, though he did not sound convinced. With a war fleet in the system, such a course of action was unwise to put it charitably.

"Er." said the aide. "We can send in cameras?"

Beryl fought the urge to scream, and hit Ruin. Again.

...It did not help her, when the cameras were actually sent in, and... As she half expected, they had managed to get footage of Ruin. Happily singing as he carved his way through aliens, like they were wheat. Angry, angry wheat with blades.

Fulgrim watched, his head tilted to the side. "Somebody, please tell me I'm hallucinating?"

Vespasian, his expression serious responded, "My lord, your hallucinations are so bad, we are experiencing them too."

_"I can't decide  
Whether you should live or die  
Oh, you'll probably go to heaven  
Please don't hang your head and cry  
No wonder why  
My heart feels dead inside  
It's cold and hard and petrified  
Lock the doors and close the blinds  
We're going for a ride!"_

Ruin sang gleefully as he proceeded to blow up three buildings, and went in to decapitate the inhabitants, tossing the bodies behind him to stack up in a pile like cordwood. Only messier and more gory.

It was, Beryl noted distantly, quite well done. Very flamboyant. And the gestures were very apt, really. The timing of the next several slaughters was so good it could have been a music vid.

...And it was infuriating her master. Goddamnit.

Beryl facepalmed.

"I... think we'd best just bomb the whole sector," Fulgrim said in a far away tone. "Whatever is going is not something we should attempt to understand."

Beryl slumped farther down, formal posture forgotten. WHY? her mind wailed miserably. Why did he have to choose now to troll her? WHY?

"For glorious genocide!" Ruin cheered happily as another set of buildings exploded. Then he actually noticed the cameras.

...And a slow flood of dread began to fill Beryl even as _he actually turned and waved at the goddamn thing._

Fulgrim's eye twitched. "We're glassing the whole damn sector. _This _cannot be inflicted on human settlers."

"Greetings, glorious leader!" Ruin grinned. He could literally feel Beryl's fury, her incoherent screaming outrage. "As you can see, the conquest's going just great. This place will be bug-free in..." He took the time to decapitate a native. "...oh, I give it three hours and thirty minutes. Just sit back and relax."

Beryl's free hand curled into a fist from holding back the sheer amount of bloodthirsty rage she felt... And she knew he could feel it too. Ruin's grin grew wider.

"Oh, and no worries, I blew up the temples first. No hallucinogenic drugs here!"

_"What the fuck is going on?" _Fulgrim hissed. His body tensed, as watched the creature. It was addressing him

...Apparently? It was looking in his general direction? No, wait.

Some of the Space Marines were looking her way. Her cover was blown.

_If it was blown anyway, she'd maul Ruin at least once before she died._

...The obsidian crystal of her gauntlet had just shattered in her hand as she hissed.

"Ruin, _you utter, utter bastard, _stop trolling me in front of my master and do your goddamn job!"

The creature grinned that sharklike grin and saluted her, a crisp Imperial salute. "As my glorious leader commands! I think that master of yours will like this place after I clean it up a bit, eh?"

"No snappy comments!" she hissed. "You were to do the job quick, clean and silent!"

It grinned right back. "Glorious leader, I should point out to you, I AM doing my job. When that precious master of yours gets here, the roaches will be gone, the place spick and span. _Just as you wanted." _

_"I did not pay you to disco." _The words were ground out between clenched teeth.

"Hey, it's not my fault he picked this place to ah... what's that term again? Pluck like a chicken." Ruin said affably. "It's just bad timing, that's all. That said, boss, seriously, you need a... what's that term again? A chill pill. You did your job, I'll do mine."

Rage. Rage and hate and.. oh it was glorious. _Ruin loved her so damn much. _

"You can feed me my spleen later, got people to obliterate, 'kay? Oh. And if he hurts you, _I'll be right up there quick to maul him."_

"You maul him, _I maul you." _Beryl hissed.

"You have to survive his mauling first." It pointed out mildly as another building blew up.

_"I'll survive if only to tear you apart." _

_"I love it when you say that!_" Ruin grinned.

"Beryl?" Fulgrim said, his voice taking on that worrying far away quality. "Could you be so kind and explain, please?"

Secrets. Just as he thought he was done with Bile and the whole mess, he run into more secrets. He had thought she intended to help him. Now, he felt strangely calm and numb, unlike the white hot fury he had experienced when he found Bile had betrayed him

Beryl was about as on edge as a spitting cat. "We have a contract, he and I. Signed in blood. Very Archaic. He was supposed to have been done with this sector earlier. It was supposed to be a gift." Utter embarrassment.  
"For you." Humiliation of the worst kind. "And now he's ruined it, like he ruins a lot of things and _I will feed him his spleen." _

"No. You will not," Fulgrim said. "You will do nothing until I understand exactly what is going on."

Beryl facepalmed again, "As you wish, Milord."

She was going to maul Ruin. Not that he'd die from it. He'd regenerate. She knew he would.

Approximately three hours later, after an epic battle with a Keeper of Secrets, Ruin made his way over to the shuttle. He grinned, in his disquieting way, all the way up. "Heeee~ey!" He grinned at Beryl. "I see he didn't maul you."

...It was only her severe desire to please Fulgrim that spared Ruin from having to eat his own balls.

"Well?" Fulgrim said, still sounding a bit too polite. "Can I have an explanation now, or do I need to write a formal request?"

"I work for her." Ruin grinned toothily. "She _likes_ you."

Beryl facepalmed. "I told him to take over the planet, and clear out the inhabitants. Sir." Beryl said, keeping herself from mauling Ruin through sheer force of will.

"Likes me?" Fulgrim asked. "You put quite a lot of emphasis on this word."

He was feeling tired. The whole stupid fight—he didn't care about it. He just wanted to know if he'd been betrayed again or not

"Likes you. As in, will obliterate anything that would get in your way, hoping to get your approval." Ruin grinned. "I like working for her. She's got a ruthless streak eight miles wide and sends me on interesting missions. Speaking of which, I was sent here 'cause we had info the natives had something capable of mind control."

_Another goddamn possessing sword. _

"I slagged it first go."

"I see," Fulgrim said. "Please shut the fuck up now. I want to hear her explain why she had never told me this. Or about you."

_Oh God_. Beryl prayed silently. _Ruin is an ass. An Asshole. Why did you make him again? Is he to be a permanent threat to my wellbeing, my sanity, my very wish to exist? _

Beryl flinched at her master's words. Like a whipped dog, one might guess.

And then she forced herself upright, drew the pathetic shreds of her composure around her and stated, as stoically as she could manage (though that was not much) ,"I did not wish to inform you of this because the moron I am pacted to is _certifiably insane_, Sir."

She took a deep breath, went on "He has plenty of firepower, psychic and otherwise. He's useful in extermination of an enemy's forces. But he's destructive, vicious, childish, and an utter embarrassment to me." She took a breath. "And worse, we're related."

"Why should I consider any of this enough to excuse you?" It was so hard to forget Bile's notes. It claimed to like him, but she had... There was one moment, but how could he even be certain it was true?

"You shouldn't, sir." she said honestly. "You should..." oh but this hurt, _it hurt_. She was going to kill Ruin for ever making her say this. "Dismiss me immediately before I become a liability to you."

"_It_ will meet my Father as soon as possible," Fulgrim said after a moment. "Then we will talk."

"As you wish, my lord." Beryl said, bowing, though it was more of folding in half due to pain and the urge to maim a certain moron.

{oOo}


	13. Empty Men: Paved By Good Intentions

{oOo}

She'd only wanted to please _him_. But Ruin had... and_ he _had been so angry and...

The pain flooded her, bone deep weariness, every single day of her multiple long lives crushing down on her like tons of stone, and all she had was the memory of her lord's rage.

And her eyes burned but she didn't weep, held them in as she made her way down the hallway. Now was not the time or place.

She held her stiff martial posture, walking past the Space Marines, buried deeper and deeper in the ordure of humiliation, of failure with every step.

Never mind that the mission had succeeded outwardly. _She'd failed Fulgrim_. He no longer trusted her.

And that was the block of dust in her throat, the millstone around her neck that dragged her down.

Ruin fed on emotions. She knew this. He probably thought it was_ funny _but…

She was bound to him. He was bound to her. _He may as well have it. _

She opened the gates of her mind, her soul to him, and let the screaming pain flow out, like a tide, as she locked herself in her rooms, dissolved her visor, and slumped into the bed.

Her visor had held the tears back, for a long time. Now she buried her face in her hands and wept. Wept for the ruination of her hopes. For the loss of her dreams.

_He _would never trust her again, would_ he_?

And as much as she didn't want to, until she was sure _he_ was _safe_, she would just have to live with it.

And on the other side of the ship, Ruin himself went ash pale, frozen, as he tasted what he'd never meant to provoke.

No father wishes to make their child weep. Ruin... despite his own belief in his villainy, was no exception. But this time, there was nothing he could say, or do.

Perhaps the strange white haired Primarch was right. Perhaps he_ should _go see this Emperor.

Hopefully the other Eldritch being could tell him where he had gone wrong.

After all, he was a father too.

{oOo}


	14. Empty Men: Villainous Vindication

{oOo}

"Oh, I know that you blame yourself for his hurts, because he last said he hated you in that previous timeline, little bird...But has it never occurred to you, that your dear Fulgrim's legion had been with him for a century at least before he ever met you?"

Ruin frowned, disappointed by the empty, terribly bleak look in its pawn's... no, it's daughter's eyes.

Despair fueled power, yes, but it also broke the blade that wielded it. Beryl was too important, too valuable a blade to break.

...Beryl was its daughter, loyal and soft within, fragile and yet sharp. Beautiful in her way. It's own little bird, all claws and beak and wounded eyes, and broken wings.

It would take those wings and mend them. She would survive, because it refused to accept any other option.

It pushed on, as best as it could.

"Why then, do you continue to overwork yourself, to blame yourself for all the ills he suffered? Is it because the daemon in his shell got you to turn and become its pawn, then sent you to guard his soul?

But... They, _his legion_, knew him longer. Much longer than you ever did, before you were turned. And it lied to them, turned them too. _Why didn't they see it? They should have. _But they saw nothing. _If they stood no chance, neither did you_." The being frowned, "And you were what? All of 25? 28? A child by the standards of this world's nobles. A foolish, innocent_ child_."

"Children," Beryl said wearily. "Rarely ruin lives as well as I did."

"...Little bird. I am Ruin, it is my nature to take advantage of things." He sighed. "Even of you. And only lately have I begun to regret it. Stop blaming yourself. Blame me if you want, little bird, or the Warp Gods."

He struck home at the last. "Besides, he hasn't fallen yet. And if you succeed, he never will be."

That got her attention. "But he hates me." she said, listlessly.

"Does it matter?" Ruin asked. "You poured out your life's blood on his altar, tried to be worthy of him. Even if you do not receive his approval, he will be safe, will he not?"

Bery's attention was his, in that moment, hooked by his words. "Yes." She said hesitantly.

"He will be safe. I just don't want him to hate me.

"Hatred." Ruin told her gently, "Is unavoidable. We're not heroes, little bird. We're villains. Hatred is part of the package deal."

{oOo}


	15. Empty Men: The Blood is The Life

{oOo}

The summons had been appreciated, as they arrived on Terra. The timing for it had been perfect, as she should have expected. She hadn't been able to bear to look at Fulgrim, not after that fiasco, not knowing that he would probably hate her.

Hm. It seems that the Emperor had reviewed her offer, and now agreed that the summoning rite would benefit him far more than it would endanger him.

How perfectly apt it was, now that she had felt the first pangs of rejection, by her lord.

And if Terra woke... Then she would not need to be here, to look after her lord's interests, would she? Her lord's father would have a mate capable of crushing any opponent and... he would be safe. He would not worry about her betrayal, would not view her as a serpent close to his chest.

She would be no Bile, nor Eidolon. She would, for once, hopefully, be able to redeem herself.

Redeem herself without spilling the blood of the innocent in conquest. And it's not as if it would have hurt Endymion anyway. Terra was hardly something he was closely connected to, not when he'd married the Moon's Princess and left his Home to live with her.

A win- win situation. For everyone. And if the ritual went badly, and she lost too much blood, or was mauled, then it would hurt less than this aching feeling in her chest.

She presented herself as ordered, ritual blade sheathed in a belt around her hips, white gown simple, medieval. Something her ancestors would've worn, to do ceremonies for the Great Mother.

...And then it was night, under the moon and she bent, to write the runes in blood, hers and others. A circle for protection. Runes to call. And the blood itself, with the corpses, for bait.

The runes, carved into her own skin, a second summoning; recognition.

She raised her voice once more in the songs of her ancestors, and _hoped._

Beryl was in Pain. Horrible pain. Fully deserving of the capital letter.

The blood dripped from the sigils carved into her right arm's skin and yet she chanted on unceasing, uncaring, as the light grew blinding and she heard the agonized screams of rage and pain that she'd been expecting.

…She used telekinesis to throw the Xeno corpses into the circle, one after the other. There were many hundreds of thousands harvested by Ruin available for this enterprise and yet she was still unsure if it was enough.

The corpses were torn to pieces, pureed into gore and turned into chlorophyll and other such biological matter within moments.

And yet Beryl still kept throwing them in, knowing that she had to cut off the edge of the Embodied Eldritch Being's anger and hunger down before she could even begin speaking.

Beryl was...young. Had been young, she had been about the age of the Prince. She only knew the Queen as the tender of the garden of Elysium, of the Golden Kingdom. She hadn't thought of the outside with it's vicious beasts. She was a cultivated flower of the garden, she never knew the side of the Queen which had indulged in the germ. It should have been obvious in retrospect, it was now. She knew now, she knew other things now. This planet had been dead, it must be driving her mad. She was the Queen of man and all the beasts of the field; of the field itself. Beryl knelt to her, ignoring the throbbing pain.

"My queen, My mother, I bid thee welcome. Here stands a man, Emperor, born of your flesh, who claims dominion over the whole of thee."

The Emperor observed the woman Beryl called "mother" with interest. Her form was pleasing to the eye, though she was obviously weak, but it was not what interested him. It was her mind, her way of thinking that he found pleasing.

True, it was still oddly fragmented, not entirely there, but it was based on principles much like his own. It was easy to simply draw conclusions from "survival of the fittest" (which was not entirely correct, for it should be "survival of adapted best to the environment"—and even this was misleading) and see how a unit was only a part of a greater whole.

She had power, too. It was directed at a particular skill set, not like his, but it seemed that as she grew stronger in body, so would her power. He had been warned she would be weak now, but if this was weak…

He smiled to himself—her power would be very useful.

{oOo}


	16. Empty Men: Surprising Meetings

{oOo}

Terra dug her hands down, fingers anchoring into the exposed stone of the Himalayas.

The red gore around her changed to green and gray, hardy lichen clinging in as her fingers did.

Delicate silver blue web stretched over them, a living thing, an almost animal. It breathed the scant oxygen in the air and that her lichen gave off.

In tiny crevices she put mono-cellular creatures, strange fungus, and the start of grass.

She spider walked lower, changing only what her shadow fell upon.

Gore seemed to slough off her, but it never reached the mountain base, never went far. She absorbed it into her, stone and soil and flesh.

She didn't need to be there for that to happen, she was already there, the action her power, the same way she would have bled, cracked erupted, had her lord not asked her to.

Flesh into flesh would be...almost easy. But she needed to build herself first, make the cycles that were her generator, the turning of generations. It was going quickly, she did not have to rely on non-thought and experimentation, she had blueprints. She had over stretched herself making the fungus, but it paid off, devouring the carcasses below. Here she needed to go slow and careful.

It was good that she had a Good Daughter, otherwise she would not be able to make the psykers he wanted. She could not design such things anymore, not yet. She was shaking. She was tired. She walked down the mountain, sure footed but weak. Under her feet lichen and moss grew.

She almost ran into them, because they were human but born of her soil long parted from her, an ice comet had parted the moon (beloved moon) from her.

But they were...in to him. "Sons." She blinked at their stomachs.

She would not step down step back step away, she looked up at them, hair ruffling to coil and hide her throat.

Magnus stared down at the logical impossibility standing before him. And staring at his stomach. For a moment his incredible brain stalled, threw off a few sparks. Then it restarted. "Sons?" His voice was a startled squawk. "Me? I ... WHAT?"

Roboute would have pushed her away and assumed she was just insane, except for the fact that the Emperor... was apparently coming down the path to meet them.

...What the Warp was going on?

Could it be that Leman was right and his father had finally...

...Roboute's mouth opened in a soundless scream of utter denial and he stood, frozen from the mental trauma as his sire put a supporting arm around the small woman's waist.

So his sons met her? He was glad; she needed to learn of them, for her to become a part of his plans. They needed to know her too. The decision was already made, their approval irrelevant, but he did want them to at least have an impression their opinions mattered.

Russ was.. surprised but pleased. Very pleased, after he saw the solicitous way his sire was supporting his new wife. Very new wife. He'd never met the woman before, but hey, it was the prerogative of the king to take as many brides as he wanted, right?

Guess them Sororitas are going to be might frustrated though.

"Lord's sons. Not mine." She blinked again and tilted her head back to look at them in his face. "Faulty. Viable." She reached out to him with a shaking hand then pulled it back, "Too tired." She shook more and turned her face aside in shame.

Russ moved forward first. "Greetings father. I see you have a new wife." He grinned, white teeth showing, broadcasting his approval to the four winds and anyone within range. "She is very beautiful! " he boomed, voice naturally loud. "Jaghatai should be very pleased, we were wondering why you never showed us a spouse. Perhaps you should have told us so we could bring our new little mother presents?" Furs, Russ decided. Poor little mother, she looked so very tired.

Behind him Roboute's mouth opened and closed over and over again, Soundless, and his eyes were wide with shock.

Magnus looked to be gathering the shreds of his composure. and dropping them every so often.

When she was pushed she barely swayed, her arm moved slightly, and when did she have what looked like a lighting claw on her right hand? When did lighting claws come so small and...odd looking, yellowish and textured so strangely? She bared her teeth at him, bending at the knees slightly, only to go limp against the Emperor when he was near.

The Emperor observed, noting their reactions. Russ was simple and predictable. He would approve, for his culture told him so. Magnus was intrigued—again predictable. It was his nature to ask questions and search for answers. Roboute seemed upset. This was unexpected and odd.

"Well, that was... interesting." Magnus said faintly. "I... don't suppose you could explain this to us, father?" This could not possibly be, his mind told itself, but his psyker powers told him that before them stood the heart of a planet. A living breathing humanoid planet. What in the name of the Warp had his sire done now?

"Too tired," she said to him, and blinked. She pointed at Roboute, with claws that shrivled back into a dainty hand, "If he attacks me again I will kill him. Or turn him into a fungus."  
"...I think my poor brother Roboute needs to get a wife." Russ said mournfully. "We have told him this, Jaghatai and I."

"Or just gut him." And eat him, but it had been impressed on her that she shouldn't say such things. "When I am not tired I will not make him one."

"I'm tired," she said again, and curled her hand into a segment of their Father's golden armor and squeezed. The metal groaned.

She turned her face to him and inhaled deeply through her nose. Beneath her feet the lichen fell away to grass heavy with seeds and tiny flowers.

"He is very rude, little mother, but perhaps you should not try to maul him?" Russ asked. He had noticed the claws but, hey, raised by wolves. Interesting to watch though. "I see you are tired, maybe you should rest back in the Palace?"

Oh. Very powerful. Leman APPROVED. "You will bear my father strong sons, and daughters." He said, considering her, "but first, little mother, maybe you and father should go home."

Roboute looked as if he was about to get apoplexy or rush forward to attack. Leman thwapped him across the back of the head. Magnus looked at her as if he wanted to dissect her. Then seemed to think better of it and stared, fascinated at the grass beneath her feet.

"I think." Magnus said cautiously, wanting to reach down and poke the soft looking fronds. "That our... little mother... would like a garden. Perhaps you should clear one, Russ."

"How big?" asked Russ, thinking things over. "I think the palace is very big, we may have to tear down a few walls."

"I have one beneath. I have one above," her eyes moved to look at the mountain to their sides. She pushed off of The Emperor to stand up straight. "I have, Psykers because he wants them.. Not strong yet, still testing."

She turned her head smoothly to look up at the Emperor, "Social bonding and love evolved because they are more optimal problem solving and survival stragies. I will await you while you have your meeting with your sons. If you...Please do not take too long." There was a small rockslide.

"Or do you require me to stay?" She can't sleep yet, she might bleed, or she might never wake up.

"I have no requirements—do as you wish."

He would have things to discuss with his sons and her presence would not change them. Though… No. Roboute would have to get used to it. He was an adult and there was no point in coddling him.

{oOo}


	17. Empty Men: Sacred Marriage

Warning: Nothing terribly graphic in this chapter, but sex is broadly implicated, skip if you don't like such things.

{oOo}

Terra knelt on the lichen covered stone, her fingers curling into thin top soil. Through her fingers grass sprouted and curled.

She turned her hands over and seed clusters dropped into her palms. She wanted to show him.  
The Emperor knelt down by her side, running his fingers through the grass. It appeared perfectly healthy. He turned his attention to what she was holding and took one of the clusters. Carefully, he examined it, noting the structure. It was grass-the kind of grass that he had taken for granted for millenia.

"It's old, but it's mine." Not transplanted but what she could grow from her own tattered power. "They're fertile, it will spread. Bryophytes might have been easier but..." He might like the grass?

"Do you wish to rest?" she was still weak and far too valuable to lose. Her well-being was important. That he was already quite fond of her was only a secondary factor.  
"Maybe I'll be able to sleep soon," without having to worry that she'd..well yes she would be bleeding but that wasn't what the humans usually called extreme magma spewing tectonic activity. She leaned against him. "I feel that this might be the start of Elysium." The safe place of her soul. She'd be much, much saner then.

He slid his arm around her to support her. "I wish to understand this concept," he said. Elysium appeared to be important to her, but so far she had but gleaned the idea in their conversations. There were so many important things to talk about.  
"A world within," she stood with his help, unbalanced and gestured with her left hand. "The garden I craft, Elysium," she made a fist and held up her right, "the outside world the wild places," she wrapped that hand around her fist.

She put her arm around his waist. "The psykers are going well. Seed generation I have copied from Beryl, and have altered the parents to produce as if they were her many times granchildren to maximize mutation and diverisity potential."

He traced the outline of her cheek with his fingertips. She was so practical to have around, allowing him to avoid problems he might run in while using simple cloning and other derrivative processes. "It pleases me."

Her eyes closed and she tilted her head against him, some how feeding off of his touch and aura. "You love them very much." It made him powerful, it made him worthy of her love now that she was able.

"I suppose you can put it that way," he said after a moment. "I exist to protect them."

"You love them, and you are not even cognizent of it. Amazing. But then what comparison would you have?" There had been one other like this, only she had...She didn't remember very well.

"I suppose I am flawed like that," he mused. "The only love I remember is that of a child to its parents-back then I did not know myself."

"I love my children," she agreed as they walked down the path together. Her dear children who fed on each other and on her and fought to defend her. "I love you," not as a child.

"I am fond of you," he replied. "I desire you. It is... odd."

"We are odd," and then she nodded. "Hybridization in vertebrates does not occur often, it is often a result of desperation or more likely artificial circumstances. The same species is more likely to produce viable offspring that will go on to produce their own. What are mentally and what you have made of yourself physically, there is no female akin to you. I am the closest."

"...Also I am by certain definition the drive to reproduce, however I don't think I am actively interfering with your hormonal balance."

What was the phrase? "Take me now."

"My most stalwart defender," she murmured before kissing him.

It was an intriguing experience. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her back. It was a pity she couldn't talk about hormones like that, though.

"Here, feel how we are made." Her fingers dipping down his back, she did not trigger mere lust in him, but rather set off his adrenals. Fear. Fear and alone, for the whole of the world was dead around him, no, them. She was here, vasodialatiors to increase blood flow, heat pocketed between two bodies. Lust, because the spark of life was here, here between them if they only kindle it. Then they won't be alone, won't be dead.

He slid his hands against her back, watching her. It was intriguing-how she could trigger such primal emotions. A part of him wondered how. A part of him always wondered how. "That's where everything starts, is it not?"

"In fire, yes. The soul, the mind, the brain, I reach up into you from the most physical piece." And make you my plaything. "You remember the horomones levels from previous instances, should I recreate them it will be as if it had just happened. I was not present for your battles, I do not know them, but sometimes," she caressed the muscles of his neck, "some become trapped in muscle tissue and can be released, or I can copy..."

She flicked a finger through his throat and innundated him. For a moment he stood atop a mountain of corpses as in the end of the battle Thale'thie. Even he had almost died, but he lived and the stinking air had never smelled as sweet.

"How very intriguing," he said, closing his eyes. Her powers were so firmly grounded in biology and chemistry, but they were still so very fascinating. He bowed his head to kiss her jaw.

She showed him her throat and sunk her hands into his thick hair. "You know," she husked, lips pursed into a smile, "I'm only going to get stronger."

"Very good," he said. "I do want you stronger."

She breathed as any woman did. "RNA to resequence DNA into familiar forms saves me energy."

"Evolution is slow but magnificent. When my powers wax, with this mind? I will make things that have never been seen for you. DNA will unravel and cells will realign and reform by my will. Spiders with silicate spinerretes to reinforce your cities. Psykers of every stripe and ability, honing their skills against each other, improving and breeding and being worthy of us. Bury dragons teeth and I will give you an army."

"There are so many possiblities," he said, "There are several projects I might wish to brush up. Secretions could be interesting."

It was nice of him to not crush the thin topsoil with the excess weight of his armor

With beings of their power, clothing damage was nothing to worry. He could fix it with a thought.

"My lord, I hope this isn't a chore," she knew it wasn't anymore and tugged hard on his testosterone.

"Not at all," he chuckled. "Though I think I wouldn't mind a bit more convincing."

Her eyes took on a very far away look, and for a moment his body still felt desire, though his mind did not. She neatly blocked the feed back there. Her power traces into him like a multitude of fingers, she let him feel it

One by one she tapped on ancient neurons. Lighting the fire of the mind. "Remember," she whispered as she called up his adolescence and young adulthood.

"Look to the stars, but I am the grass and earth you laid upon, the goats you tended. Remember how your body first warmed, first awoke. Awaken to me my lord."

And then she let the floodgates open, as the man he was now, as the teen he had been then.

He gasped. He closed his eyes, as he remembered. How odd it felt. How alien. Had he really changed so much? He pulled her closer. It had been all so long ago...

He pressed his lips to her throat again, his body reacting while his mind dealt with the memories.

She was in every cell of his body, every process and heart beat, and wanted him with her. "My lord, my lord," He was a being of soul and mind incarnated into flesh which he shaped, she was all flesh, too real to be borne. She made him remember his own flesh and fire.

He obliged. Oh, how willing he was to unite with her.

She pressed against him, smiling, sighing. "Strongest, most worthy, _most fit. _Best beloved of this earth."

She nipped at him, gentle. Guided him with her hands, she made herself fit to him.

She slid against him, both of them burning equally for all that only he visibly glowed like the sun.

It was an ancient drive that was at work here, but in a sense it was new to him. Her powers were a part of it, as was her way of thinking, but there was also the fact she was an equal.

Ancient and new—it was like it should be

Around them the grass and moss became a lighter shade of green with new growth, and set out tiny little flowers.  
Perhaps it was this, perhaps it was her, but memories of past passion were called up, and none held a candle to her.

Indeed, none had been like her. Before, he had always felt a sense of uniqueness? loneliness? It was hard to tell at now. It was not her body, though he found it more than enjoyable. The powers and the mind... Oh, he wanted to study them.

Her eyes rolled upward briefly, then focused (the tarnished crescent of Luna hanging in the day sky.) Her eyes came back to him, and only him. "My lord, my high king, my Emperor," She drank from him with a kiss, flexing and holding him tight to her in all ways she could.

Ah, he was starting to understand better. She was his and he was hers. That was why it felt so different. Before, he had not felt a sense of belonging. "My queen," he whispered.

A deeper breath, held for an instant and she smiled at him so, so, there weren't words yet for it, not fully. Half closed eyes and...completion, contentment, correctness. But more. "I am. Should you fall, should you fade, I will strike them down, and I would continue your will." That was very, very nearly against her nature. But she loved him as fiercely and fully as she could recall loving another long ago. For that one she put aside her power without a thought, for this one she gathered strength, for him mother earth would bear arms.

He grinned. "We are wed," he stated. "You and I are one now._ Nothing will stand in our way._" It was such an exhilarating feeling. He would not lead alone now.

She pulled him down to kiss her, fierce and exultant and then pushed him away so he would lay upon her rocks and she could rise above him. "My glorious golden lord. We will craft together things that the stars have never seen." She thought of a golden millenium. "Our children will be around every sun and in every void."

{oOo}


	18. Empty Men: Girl Talk

{oOo}

Beryl was a Good Daughter, Terra mused as she contemplated her. Fine work done there. Good enough to not eat. She tried hard, brought home food; prey. A lot of different types of prey.  
Even if they'd been intelligent, Terra really hadn't cared, as long as their processed corpses, pureed to sludge, could be of use in fertilizing her lands.

She owed her little daughter a boon. And yet... she didn't know what her daughter wanted.

{oOo}

"...Do you wish to be male?" The question came out of nowhere, startling Beryl badly enough that she straightened out of her now habitual position on her knees.

Whatever had brought this on?

Did she even want to know?

_"...No._" Beryl's response was fervent, quick, certain. "_Very much no, _mother."

Dark-haired, deceptively delicate, Terra frowned. "You bring me food, you ply my favour." It was clear the eldritch female didn't understand Beryl's motivations.

After thinking things over, Beryl decided to carefully choose her word, since any confusion would, apparently, result in her being gender changed. And she didn't even know if Fulgrim liked men that way! "Ah... there is a male I wish to reproduce with, if you would catch my drift." she offered cautiously, off-balance and nervous. "I think things would go better if I were fertile enough to give him children and... I am not very fertile at this point and you ARE fertility." she said, apologetically, twining a strand of long red hair back behind her ear tip.

"Come here." Terra commanded, and Beryl quickly obeyed. One doesn't disobey or disrespect a being capable of reducing you to a red smear with a thought, after all.

Pleased, Terra laid her hands on her abdomen, over the slight swell of fat at the cradle of her pelvis. "Good daughter. Worthy and strong. Variation and mutation not seen here...Did I make you?" Her hand is very warm, and patterns move under her skin as the fingertips phase through clothing and flesh like they weren't even there.

"Yes mother." Beryl ventured, still cautious, knowing her life and... various other bits were on the line if her answers were taken wrong."You made my ancestors." she said quietly.

The Great Mother looked... pensive. "I don't remember very well. There is no Elysium here, all these minds and they have no soul house, no place for mine." Energy, just tiny ripples from the center of her palm. They expanded out over her skin and into her body as well. "You brought me to him. I remember someone like him. She was silver and beautiful and love and power."

"Um. she married one of your sons, mother." Beryl says carefully. Truth. Try not to upset the mother of all things on earth."She was very very happy." She floundered for details.

"I don't think so. I think I married her. But she is not here and he is, and they both love so very very much." She pulled her hand back, "You are more fertile now, to enrich the next generation."

"Thank you, mother." Beryl says, still somewhat disoriented. "But we do not remember seeing you, mother. Not on the other earth. Not for a very long time." She frowns, tries to remember. "The last time there was a Sailor Terra was over 500 years before Prince Endymion was born."

"When I die I am reborn, from my precious children, or from my own flesh beneath their feet. I was, am, Queen, Princess...But..." Terra closed her eyes and her bust shrank eyes moved lightly further apart as her cheekbones became more apparent. Adam's apple, and her hips-almost moved. Rapidly her body returned to being fully female, unable to finish the transformation. "I am weak still."

"...I will bring you more biomass, mother." Beryl says, eyes filled with resolve and... was it relief? Relief that she now had a clear goal that would be less dangerous than this conversation. "There will be Hive ships, crushed, to feed you."

"It's not just that, good child." Terra said quietly.

"What do you need, mother?" Beryl asked, clearly confused.

"I poisoned myself to make you, after I bled. But here everyday I am poisoned. Are you his daughter as well?" She pointed up with one hand towards where the Emperor sat.

A slight frown was all Beryl showed as she took the news in stride. Confusing, but then, the Mother was very far from human. "How were you poisoned, mother?"

"Not his daughter, no." She doesn't understand. No matter. She is only human...

"Oxygen, daughter. Oxygen was poison at first." Terra chided her gently. A slow blink, "Then why do you do his duty, daughter mine?"

Beryl lowered her voice so hopefully only the Mother would hear it, embarrassed even though this was a private audience as she chose words she was sure the Mother would understand,

"... Because I wish to mate with one of his sons. " Beryl flushes. Then she started shyly showing Terra picts of Fulgrim hoping the Mother wouldn't bring it up in front of the male in question later.

Terra scrutinized the picture. "His hair is long and unbroken, though lacking in protective and camouflaging coloration. He has been well fed and healthy for," she ran her finger from the scalp of the picture to almost the end of his hair, "this long. His face is clear so he is un-poisoned. He is a good choice. It pleases me to know that my husband's seed is good."

She put her hands on her own abdomen, regretful. "I cannot have children of flesh alone yet, not when my bones are dead."

A moment's pause before she added, "I cannot tell you more about him with those coverings on him."

Beryl had flushed as red as a tomato. "Ah... That won't be necessary, mother." She floundered in all too human embarrassment.

"Are you certain?"Terra questioned her.

"Yes mother." If she turned any redder, Beryl was afraid her skin would match her hair.

The Eldritch female gave her a pat on the head. "Go make me grandchildren. Even if they seem faulty I promise I will not devour them."

"Er. Yes mother." Beryl said weakly, embarrassed beyond belief.

"I am mostly certain there will be no complications in your children if he is similar to his father and has no genetic defects." Terra promised. "Love them and each other strongly, good daughter."

Beryl couldn't even form a coherent answer to that anymore. "Erk."

{oOo}


	19. Empty Men: Though This Be Madness

{oOo}

"... If my mother desires her biomass needs to be filled, Ruin, you and I are going hunting." Beryl said firmly to the lounging male who was... Her eyebrow twitched as she watched him. Was leaving dirty marks, ashes and dust all over the soft couch he was practically draped on.

Terra smiled fondly, inasmuch as such an expression could be interpreted, "Good girl." A kiss.

Ruin looks somewhat wild eyed. Though that may be because Beryl has a grip on his very human testicles. To motivate him. "Er," he floundered, "Yes, now please let go of that!"

When she finally did, he frowned at her, only half in jest. "You are a very bad little girl, daughter-mine. You're lucky I love you."

Terra looked..curious. "I don't remember having sex with you"

"Yes well, I don't remember you trying to eat your own offspring. I sort of thought that was my department." he snarked back, amused.

Beryl frowned. Sulked. Pouted. "Ru-in. Stop. Frustrating. My. Mother." Perhaps she should have mauled him harder?

Ruin hid his amusement at her discomfort, squawked in mock protest, moved out of her reach playfully.

"This wasn't my shell before when we knew each other." he said to Terra finally.

"Most creatures do eat their own offspring." Terra pointed out mildly.

Still, he was oddly familiar..

Then the pieces clicked together.

"You are...part of me, and I am an expression of you. I recall. You showed me," bringing the mitochondria into the other cells, sparked the brainstorm which was the use of oxygen. All that before there were conscious minds to hold her soul, before she could truly think.

"Yes." Ruin grinned, "So she is my daughter too." he added, "and a very good one, or at least she would be, if she'd stop grabbing my new shape's nether regions to make a point."

Terra smiled, fiercely, brightly. "I am glad that we...share a child. I will not get that chance again as I am married and he is long lived." she added warningly, because she knew him to some extent. "And I won't kill him. I like him."

Ruin who is Chaos, who knew survival of the fittest well, because he was the force testing all things to destruction or evolution and adaptation, ...laughs, long and loud. "Oh I have no doubt of that. An apex predator."

Terra smiled, lazy and confident as one of Russ's wolves.

"I'm off to hunt you down some biomass, Terra. I do hope you will heal faster." Ruin offered her a sharklike grin "But until you do, I'll be happy to keep doing my ex-husbandly duties." Like trolling.

"An Ex-husband is one that failed. I am strong though I am weak. The duty of an ex-husband is to placate, run, or die." Terra corrected him. "To fail me is to fail all that I am and all my children."

Ruin gave her an amused look. "Haven't failed you yet, have I?"

Yes, he was totally banking on her lack of memory. Ah, amnesia. How wonderfully useful you are, to such bastards as I!

Terra frowned. "I can't remember"

"And yet by human standards, you are already mated." Amused, Ruin shifted the conversation to another tangent. "Our daughter is doing his duty," Terra folded her arms in a very human gesture and frowned.

Beryl feeling rather appreciated, mentally vowed to bring back another hivefleet, or mass of Xeno corpses, rendered on to squishy bits and have it spread all over the place. The pettings. They were very good. She practically purred.

"He is defending you." Ruin noted, amused. "You are still not capable of outright eating some of the threats that are working against you. we will change that, I hope."

"He has looked into my mind, he was born of me before I came forth-I looked back. I was brought forth to defend our children," Terra approved.

Ruin tilted his head. Ah, it figured that would have registered. "Yes." he grinned widely at her. "Although, unlike you, I must admit to having quite different reasons for having been summoned."

"Withered I cannot see to my duties. It is his duty to see to it that I am well." She stopped here and scowled. "Love is powerful, love was evolved because it is a strong survival strategy. From love, from the instincts that love built upon, comes larger units of interaction usually formed along bloodlines."

Another curious look. "You are doing your duty." She kissed Chaos on the cheek. "We are family?"

Family. Did that mean he had two little girls now? Two little daughters... _How adorable._

"Yes, we are." Ruin hugged her, impulsively.

Terra paused, almost attacked him, and then hugged him back, hard and warm and almost human.

{oOo}


	20. Empty Men: Monsters

{oOo}

_Look at him  
Look at me  
That boy is bad  
And honestly  
He's a wolf in disguise  
But I can't stop staring in those evil eyes_

_That boy is a monster_  
_He ate my heart then he ate my brain_

{oOo}

They found her in the new Garden.

It was growing well enough, as their previous tributes had been used to fertilize the ground. "Mother, we bring you tribute." Beryl told the new Empress, kneeling as she did, back ramrod straight. By her side, Ruin stood, unbowed, unchanging, that damnable smirk upon his face as the new corpses were brought in, in their thousands, and reduced to nutrient-mush, mineral mush by his abilities.

The mush coated the earth, compressed into rich loam under the Empress' feet. The Empress' smile was bright. Feral.

"My Good Daughter." she said, and Beryl relaxed, as she stood up now, to receive her mother's embrace.

{oOo}

The Tyranid Hive fleet had been easy enough to find, particularly for Ruin who could track their destruction; was destruction itself.  
And while they were nice toys, really efficient killing pawns, the fact still remained that his daughter needed food. Little Terra was an adult, yes, but she was still growing again, starting from scratch.

And like all good parents, Ruin had every intention of feeding his baby girl the best he could afford.

Which in this case was an entire Tyranid Hive Fleet. After all, it was, essentially, a collection of the finest, tastiest minerals and biomass taken from the worlds it destroyed.

He smiled up at them, a smile of benediction, and as they sent out their versions of probes, simply silenced them, snuffing out the life within them like so many candles, leaving them in gory, ichor covered pieces, working his way, step by inexorable step through the fleet, silencing their living methods of communication first.

{oOo}

Several days later, the derelict husks of the entire fleet sailed peacefully to Terra. And some time after that, they ceased to exist in any recognizable shape or form.

And the Earth flourished.

{oOo}


	21. Empty Men: The Night of the Hunter

{oOo}

_Souls, souls, souls, souls._

So many souls Ruin could smell, and not aligned to any true deity either.

_Unprotected._

The Eldritch horror in human shape grinned up at the gigantic Necrons that had been making their way here, to this lonely backwater planet, one not of the Imperium yet, apparently intending to collect souls for their masters, the C'tan.

The C'tan who were only_ false gods_.

...Then he ripped its soul out with a single fluid movement. Ate it. Tasted its screams as its shell fell down, lifeless.

...Terra required souls to consume, for her precious Elysium.

Terra was not going to have to eat its own babies for that, this time.

Oh, no. Chaos had just found a lovely, tasty set of souls, just wandering around, thinking their metal armor protected them.

...Silly Necrons. All falls to Ruin, even the atoms in your shells' alloys. Even the pieces that hold your shells together. Everything can be separated from everything else by one process or the other.

"Everything falls to ruin." he told them as he advanced on them.

"And." he smiled, eyes bright and feral and more than a little mad. "_You're not peoples_."

Metal shells fell to metal dust, exploded, or shattered into their component parts between one moment and the next as the full attention of universal entropy, destruction and molecular destruction fell upon them.

"So it's perfectly alright to reduce you to nothingness." he told them, as he gathered his harvest of souls and metal parts.

In his passing, even their shells were taken. After all, they'd save Terra the problem of having to mine more metals, and the Emperor might like to see what he could make of these.

And his little daughter's family deserved all the presents Ruin could give them.

{oOo}


	22. Empty Men: Dubious Credentials

{oOo}

"Father?" Fulgrim asked.

The Emperor turned to gaze upon him, tearing his stare away from the sight of one of the internal gardens of the Imperial Palace. The glow that surrounded him was dulled, but still there, expression sphinx-like and as readable. "Yes?"

"I…" he didn't know how to phrase it. After all, he couldn't be upset with Father. It was out of question. "I am… doubtful of that woman."

The Emperor nodded.

"That being-" he started, but the Emperor spoke.

"I am aware of its existence," he said. "It is… controllable."

Fulgrim nodded, feeling miserable. He was aware there were things he would not be privy too, but it still stung that he had been kept in the dark so. "I'm sorry for doubting you, Father."

The golden eyes rested at him for a while. "You have right to doubt. It is good that you chose to inform me of them."

Fulgrim smiled weakly. At least there was something positive in the whole situation.

{oOo}


	23. Empty Men: The Weight of Truth

{oOo}

Fulgrim wished he knew what to do with Beryl. On the one hand, she saved him a lot of trouble. On the other hand, she brought that_ thing _and caused all sorts of trouble. She never did explain the whole liking situation either. Not to his satisfaction anyway.

And now Father had a wife.

Russ was enthusiastic. Jaghatai apparently had a harem, which he somehow managed to hide up till now. Sanguinius was avoiding her. Roboute was looking traumatized. He had a headache.

"She poked her hand through mine," Ferrus Manus groaned.

Between them there was a whole bottle of strong Fenrisian brew. So far it had about as much effect as water, but Fulgrim wasn't about to give up. Neither was Ferrus Manus.

"She kept talking about me having children with her daughter," Fulgrim replied mournfully.

They both emptied a tankard and it was testament to how Fulgrim was feeling, since usually he would have objected to them.

"I don't feel the need to… breed," Ferrus Manus said, his tone distasteful. "Flesh is weak."

Fulgrim merely sighed and closed his eyes. He knew whom Father's wife had meant and he did not know how to feel about it. Nails digging into his palms, he tried, really tried to finally reach some conclusion.

He looked up sharply, as he felt Ferrus' large hand on his shoulder. "You look tired."

{oOo}

Beryl sealed the bandages that covered her now-marked arm from shoulder to wrist, and stood, staring out at the city from her balcony.

She didn't want to go. On one hand, she now had the Emperor's favor and her mother was pleased. On the other hand…  
If Fulgrim hated her still, she didn't want to face him. She didn't want to exist. Didn't want to walk among them. Didn't want to wake.

But she was supposed to be there,right? A big celebration, for the Mother. And she was her Mother's Good Daughter, the one who fed her biomass and carcasses by the score. She was fairly sure, if it was only expanding the Imperium, then she would have been considered a hero. She didn't feel like a hero.  
She felt like a monster.  
And yet she got to her feet, went to her wardrobe. Pulled out a dress; long sleeved and a deep burgundy.. and then she made her way to prepare.

No point in insulting her superiors.

The party was huge, as befit an Imperial Wedding, something none had ever seen before. Despite her attempt to blend in, vanish, she was called forward. Praised.

Her stomach turned over as she caught sight of Fulgrim, frowning, clearly unhappy. That was her fault too, right?

She wished for her visor. It hurt. She didn't want anyone to see it hurting. She slid her tattered facade up, and sat in silence, sipping from a glass of wine from one of the newly conquered worlds. Perhaps he would not see her?

{oOo}

Fulgrim did not find her. Ferrus Manus was doing his best to feed him a piece of every cake they could their hands on. Since alcohol hadn't worked, he supposed an attempt at comfort food was in order. It was most definitely not weakness on his side to partake in them as well, since he was cheering up a friend.

So, it wasn't that he found her, but more like stumbled upon her, while trying to convince Ferrus to stop, because he was starting to feel ill.

"At least let me try something that has no sugar in it?"

_Shit. Oh shit._

"My lord." Beryl said, voice subdued, offering him an elegant curtsy. "I was not.." hoping to see you here. "..expecting to run into you." And she didn't know what to do anymore and so many parts of her wanted to weep, or hide, or beg. To apologize.

She knew she did not look well, paler than normal. Blood loss did that, after all. and though she'd eaten well, it had been more of a chore, to refuel and rebuild what she'd expended for the ritual.

Best to shield her injured arm. He didn't need to know... anything. About what she'd been doing, what she was going to do after this.

Fulgrim gave her a startled look—he hadn't noticed her until she spoke to him. He flushed, opening his eyes wider. Then his expression grew focused as he shoved his plate into Ferrus' hands.

"We need to talk," he said. "Now. Come."

She wasn't going to sneak out of the talk. He had questions.

She paled even as he spoke, straightened her spine by force of will, and tried not to look terrified of the consequences of this talk he had in mind.

Weakness was very unattractive after all, though.. She was terrified. Of his hatred.

"Yes my lord." she said quietly, voice subdued. She would answer all of his questions, and choke down the inevitable rejection as best as she could.

Thank the gods that she would probably be assigned right back to collecting biomass after this; because if he hated her later, at least they... at least she could have something to focus on. Other than that.

Fulgrim led her out of the hall, silent and purposeful. Once they were away from the crowds, he stopped. He towered over her, immobile like a statue of silver, amethyst and gold.

"When you first appeared, you told Father you would only serve under my command," he said. "You were very helpful… and yet you chose to withhold critical information from me. Why?"

His voice was flat, devoid of emotions.

She felt the cold vise of fear clamp down hard around her heart, her throat, and yet she could not refuse him.

This... would not end well.

Ice and ash. Choking her.

"...Your father does not wish me to discuss the warp beings known as Slaanesh, Tzeentch, Nurgle or Khorne with you." She said flatly. Treason be damned. It would... it would save him if he knew, right?

"They are a threat to your Imperium, the first is an active threat to you."

A pause. Then she continued. "And I am not allowed to discuss certain information with you, or your siblings. But Ruin is a weapon I bound to me that is capable of destroying such beings, and the woman your father married is another such being."

She resisted the urge to shuffle, kept her back ramrod straight. "We are, as you have probably been informed, related, though very distantly." She did not flinch. "I was involved in the binding of the woman, my ancestress, to your father's cause."

What else could she offer him but that?

He nodded. Father did not say Beryl was untrustworthy. He supposed he'd have to live with this explanation. There were other things he wanted explained.

"That creature implied you have feelings for me," he said. "If that is true, I would have preferred to have been informed of them before I chose to let you stay in my rooms."

Beryl felt as if she was in free-fall all of a sudden, and not the pleasant exhilaration of a parachute-dive either. Oh, no. This was being pushed off a 15 story building with the knowledge you're going to be a red smear on the ground in a very short period of time.

"I did not believe they were acceptable, to offer you, and so I said nothing." she told him, a bitter twist to the lips. Silent selfmockery. "The creature is correct about it when he says both he and I are... _unfit_... for proper company." Human company. How many billions of lives had they ended, would they end together? She didn't know. Hadn't counted. But Fulgrim deserved more than a murderer in his bed, a coldblooded monster who had already failed him. Twice now. If not a thousand.

"I do not get to decide?" Fulgrim asked. He pinched the bridge of his nose—he was missing some vital information here. Why would she think that? She was smart, she was quite pleasant company; why would she be so afraid he'd reject her?

That... surprised her clearly. She looked to be at a loss for words.

"...I...What?" she said weakly.

"Ah, forgive me, I didn't think it would be of interest." she floundered for words again, eyes wide, lost in confusion."I apologize?" she offered, still unsure of quite what to do now. Well, on one hand, she was no longer terrified. On the other hand she was now so far out of what she'd expected that she needed a map. And a compass.

"No, obviously not," Fulgrim snorted. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It was going to be counterproductive to snap at her. He watched her for a while, considering his next words.

"Do you recognize this blade?" he asked, finally, handing her a detailed drawing. It depicted a blade he had no right to know—it did not exist in this universe and never would, if Beryl's plans worked. Fulgrim would not lose Fireblade and Ferrus would not forge the second blade.

Beryl had died as a daemonette, true, but.. she'd survived long enough. Just long enough to hear that Fulgrim, the one she had failed to protect, in the past she'd tried to change... She'd heard that he'd survived. That he was free, healthy. Armed. And hated her.

And that blade had been part of what she'd been informed of.

She went stark pale.

"Yes." she said faintly. "It would have been a replacement for your Fireblade, forged by Ferrus, after Slaanesh had captured you, and only come into existence after your brothers had rescued you from its minion's clutches."

"How did you come to see this?" she asked. While she knew of... things... from Ruin, not everything it told her was accurate. She understood it came from Ruin's being Chaos... and being an utter troll.

Fulgrim watched her with a frown. Slaanesh? She had mentioned the name, but… what was it? How could it capture a Primarch? This was a question for later. If he wanted her to be honest, so should he.

"I had dreams, of myself," he said, looking away. "I look older. Different—and I have this sword. I thought you were in one of them, but now I'm not sure."

Beryl flinched. "That would depend on what context you saw me in."

Probably as the daemonette, she thought, bitterly, hurting inside.

"Are these... visions... normal?" she asked, tiredly. It might be that she'd failed him again, and if she had... it hurt.

"No, I've never had any," Fulgrim replied. "The woman looked a lot like you, but it seemed like she was very close with me."

Hope. Beautiful poisonous hope. Bitter-sweet nectar of the soul. She tried to strangle it back down and yet it persisted, like a weed.

That... was a surprise. And one that she would have to interrogate Ruin to learn about. Nevertheless...

"Some visions are from possible futures." she told him, hesitantly, "Your brother, Konrad... His psykers have them. They seem to have gotten the ability from his geneseed."

... If they were talking about possible futures...

"The reason I sent Ruin in ahead of your fleet was because that sector had temples to the being known as Slaanesh." she said, quietly.

"A being known to drug and destroy its opponents through extremes of pain and pleasure. It... is very capable of subverting most; and since I was... informed you were a target for the creature, I sent Ruin in first. That creature and its minions have nothing they can offer it."

Nothing. Not even Slaanesh could raise the dead, particularly when its starseed-soul was missing. And Ruin would stop for nothing else other than that, Beryl knew, even as she wouldn't have stopped for anything but Fulgrim.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he listened. His whole being reeled from accepting any of this and yet… "And you did not tell me?"

If she was right, then did he not need such knowledge? Why keep him in the dark? What to believe in?

"I was not allowed." Beryl said honestly. "Many people, who are informed of what is commonly called "The Ruinous Powers" turn to worship them, for one reason or another, and thus betray their own race. I have seen it happen before, on many worlds. Your father wishes to keep you safe and I have already told you more than has been offered to most, if not all of your other brothers."

"I see," he said. So, this was the reason? Father thought him too weak? It hurt so badly... "That is for now. You may go."

Beryl knew that look, the hurt in his eyes, and to see it... it was unacceptable.

"You are not weak." Beryl told him flatly. "I know of these things because I fell once. It is.. a very hard climb back up to sanity, when one of those monsters has its way."

She steeled herself, went on. "Many planets fell to those beings. It only took a few cultists, many of them less strong-willed than you, to open the way. I did not wish to take any chances. Your safety is... important to me." Vital, she did not say, to her own sanity. She had failed him once. She could not allow herself to fail him again.

Fulgrim closed his eyes, as he thought. He wished it was easier... Still, he did have to say to her. "I'm sorry. I don't understand why. You don't know me. I don't know you. Why am I so important to you?"

What could she answer to that? So many goddamn platitudes in conventional and ancient romances, all of them so true in slanted ways.

I love you. I adore you. I would die for you. I would live and die to protect you and you only. You light up my life.

How could she say this to him when they were all but strangers?

{oOo}


	24. Empty Men: Moments of Revelation

{oOo}

"...In one alternate future," the words are dust, ash in her throat. I fell in love with you, she wanted to say, yet she continues.

"I failed to protect you from Slaanesh." the words are bile-bitter, the full weight of thousands of years crashing down on her, crushing the life out of her. "I was used against you. I would prefer not to go into the details. but it was... horrible beyond words. I'm sorry, I ..."

Oh gods _she couldn't do this._

"I have to go." she said, hands cold, before she fled.

{oOo}

Ruin cornered Fulgrim sometime later, smiling that fragmented smile, a shard of madness glimmering in his eyes._ "I believe we need to talk,"_he purred, voice as sharply edged as a razor, as gentle as a caress.

"About what?" Fulgrim asked. He felt a chill run down his spine-the creature unnerved him.

Ruin grinned, death's rictus, cold._ "What exactly did you say to my little girl?"_

It gazed at him, weighing everything he was in its ice-blue gaze. "I understand you have some questions about alternate futures. Perhaps you should have directed them to me instead."

"I had dreams of myself," Fulgrim replied. "I'm different in them. Older. Sort of... tired? I think she was in one of them, or at least somebody very similar to her. She looked... different."

"...That's probably because she was." Ruin said mildly. " Each timeline is different from the other. And in one timeline, she sold her soul to me to get you out of Slaanesh's clutches."

"I should be grateful?" he snapped. "I never asked her to do this! I... What the hell is going on?"

"Gratitude has never been an aspect inherent in the human species." Ruin informed him. "You want information? Perhaps we should speak in private, yes?" Some place where he could cloak them both.

"Fine," Fulgrim replied after a momentary hesitation. He needed to understand what was going on.

The alcove was secluded, silent, the room itself empty. The first thing that Ruin did was cloak them in his own warp signature to silence any watchers. The next…

"Each decision causes a change, a separate timeline." Ruin informed him. "In many timelines, your brother Lorgar corrupts Horus."

A feral, unpleasant grin. "Horus falls. He murders Sanguinius."

Ruin continued recounting the horrible domino of events as they fell, one after the other. "He strikes down Roboute."

Then, for a vicious hit, "_He cripples your father._"

While Fulgrim reeled from those words, Ruin moved on to the next, "In many timelines, you find a sword on Laer, because none of your siblings got to it first. It is a trap." Ruin informed him calmly.

"You take the blade. The warp creature within it worms its way into your body, your mind."

The being's gestures are expressive, the shadows on the wall twist to show a black battlefield.

A terrible strike to the man's composure, as deliberately delivered as a sword blow. "And then it uses you to murder your own brother, Ferrus."

The being has no mercy. He continues with but a short pause, "Your legion, who love you, falls. They turn on your brother's legion, all but exterminating them." A piercing look. "and your soul? That is taken, imprisoned in a painting, to suffer sensory deprivation for thousands of years, _until you go mad._"

Fulgrim was silent, his face pale, eyes wide. Horus? A traitor? Him, killing Ferrus? It all sounded like some sort of a horrible nightmare. It couldn't happen. It wouldn't happen.

It had. Ruin offered him the most skeleton of records, the entire run of the mildest accurate images, evidence. It was, as Beryl had said, horrible beyond description.

And yet it was real, and Ruin coddled him still by not giving him the fullness of that truth, that he'd been violated and used to violate others in ways other than treachery, other than imprisonment, other that on the battlefields.

For millenia.

No. He gave him the recorded pict-casts, the vids, the medical records, the screams of the dying, the sight of the corrupted Emperor's Children.

But not the rapes, the tortures inflicted for amusement.

He didn't do it for Fulgrim. He did it for Beryl, who would have to bear the weight of his words.

When the Primarch had gone ashen pale, and trembling, he ventured onwards.

"In one timeline, the daemon wearing your face, came to Beryl and told her he had an important task for her. The poor girl was in love with you, and, given her relative youth at the time, it was easy for it to manipulate her." Ruin said flatly. What had she been? Twenty? And the legion's marines had been a century at the youngest.

Poor mortal fool. At least this time, Ruin would set the record straight.

"It told her it wanted her to protect its soul, your soul, in that painting. For centuries, she stood by that task, faithfully trying to please you, and keep you _sane_." Ruin's smile is terrible, sharp edged. "It was not completely successful, though she did the best she could. She was never equipped for such a task, you see. In the end when she'd discovered she had been misled, she sacrificed her life, and directed your rescuers to other things that held the daemon to the materium, as a physical anchor. You were freed." it said flatly.

"I came upon her as she lay dying and offered her compact. Her, to be mine, in exchange for this whole set of traumatic events never happening to you."

That feral smile directed at the Primarch once more.

"Your honor, sanity, freedom, this all remains intact. You should have fallen at Laer. We slagged Laer, she and I. The sword that would have been the tool used to corrupt you is less than dust now."

It shrugged. "And I expect nothing from you, Fulgrim. Neither does she, save for the chance to... what is the human term? Atone." Ruin shrugged. "She will protect you until her physical form is dust. Then her soul is mine. And because she is a good little pawn, an obedient little bird, I will not harm her. At least, not more than this fiasco already has."

"And my dreams-where do they fit in?" he asked quietly. He wanted to say so many other things, but first he had to know all he could. The dreams were still unexplained. In one timeline, she seemed not to exist. In another, she was dead. In his dreams... by now he was quite sure it was her who rested her head on his lap when his other self was reading.

He should have expected that, Ruin knew. Reality contamination. And yet... "A timeline wherein she was reincarnated, as a full human without my interference. You were captured there, and freed, but it took you centuries to get over the mental trauma of being violated both mentally, and physically." Ruin clarified. "By the time she was reborn, the fourth time around, you'd had a complete recovery, and since she'd died in battle, trying to protect you in that world, her position was less... tenuous. She courted you as best she could, going into what is termed the Inquisition, in order to be of use to you."

A shrug, nonchalant on the surface only. "Perhaps, one might assume that since she got what she wanted, it was a happy ending. Apparently though, a happy ending in her eyes, is one where you never had to suffer being captured by Slaanesh like that in the first place."

"Did you tell her what you told me before making a contract with her?" Fulgrim asked. If it did and she rejected it-he wasn't sure if he liked the thought. Love, he supposed he could understand, but this was too much. Even his Children wouldn't value his safety so much over theirs, and he was their Primarch.

A part of him wanted to meet the other Fulgrim's, see how different they would be.

Likely, Ruin knew, they'd be gibbering idiots, or insane berserkers, or worse, superficially recovered fighters, with hair trigger berserk buttons. That… wouldn't do Fulgrim much good, and it would depress Beryl to no end. He cut to the point.

"...You think she would have cared?" That smile again, bleak and terrible. A truth that poisoned wells. "Even had I told her, she would have chosen your safety over her own, refusing to leave it to chance. Perhaps she will maul me for speaking to you, but that is irrelevant, this form is but a shell."

Another shrug. "She will use me to destroy your enemies, and will be happy for it. And the only thing she will fear is your disfavor."

Ah. the boy was still curious? "...and as for the other Fulgrim, the one in your dream.. He is happy, as much as I can tell. She who is with him is happy. And they both do their jobs, exterminating cultists, pedophiles and other threats to your father's empire, waiting for your father's wounds to heal. He was, after all, crippled by what is now called The Heresy."

"Is he always crippled?" He closed his eyes, It was so hard to to ask for anything, so hard to grasp what he was being told. So many, many questions...

Ruin answered him as necessary. He did, after all, promise himself to tell the truth this time around. "...As far as I can tell... And I can read far indeed; yes, though... they have not corrupted your brothers here yet, so it may be preventable." Ruin admitted. "Beryl's plan to prevent it from happening involved her summoning the woman who just married your sire." A vicious grin.

"When _she _is at full strength, anything that threatens your father will be prey."

A contemplative look. A wary offering. "In the timeline where your alternate married Beryl, your alternate had sisters as well as brothers."

Ruin clarified. "Nine of them, actually. They helped hold your sire's empire together while he was out of commission."

"Why are they not here?" Fulgrim asked, gaze sharp, determined.

"Ah? That would be my fault." Ruin admitted. "I backstabbed Beryl. She was expecting them to be here when she awoke." He knew why he was taking the credit for this, after all. It was because it really was his fault, never mind Beryl's tendency to hog all the blame. That girl... blamed herself too much. He hated the martyr-complex. He hated the self-blame. And besides, what Chaos put in, Chaos could, easily, take out.

"Which," Ruin admitted. "Is why she is working so hard to ensure the one she summoned will be at full strength as soon as possible. After all, she has to make up for my dickery."

"I need to think," Fulgrim said, sounding tired. "Leave me."

"As you wish." Ruin smiled, taking his cloaking essence, "but be careful who you inform. If I am not cloaking the area, it may lead to rather adverse events. From your lips, to Chaos' ears, as they say. You would not wish their attention."

{oOo}


	25. Empty Men: Cosmos, Chaos and The Emperor

{oOo}

_"Goddamnit, Cosmos, if you won't put me out of my misery, I will take this universe with me!"  
-The Credo of the Devourer, chapter 1: Fuck you too._

{oOo}

The Emperor stood, stunned, as he took in the Enormity that was Cosmos, a being of infinite compassion.

Chaos snorted in disgust. Typical human. A pity, he'd hoped for more from him.  
He took in the warning glance that the man gave him. Shrugged. "Oh. Yeah. Her." The distaste with which he mentioned her was so thick you could have spread it on bread and made sandwiches. "We sort of have an off and on relationship. I hate her, she tries to redeem me, this is how we _troll_."

He turned to her, that _bitch_, "What do you want, Serenity?" he hissed, furious beyond logic. "Here to goddamn _troll me again_? Oh. No. Wait. Perhaps you want to free the universe from my influence." his voice was dry, his eyes sardonically glaring at her. It was nice to be considered a hero, for once.

Nice enough that he'd miss it. But not nice enough to stop him from lashing out at her.

"No," She said walking past him, pure white cloak trailing behind her. She passed him, "I've come to see what I have lost." She had eyes only for the Emperor. Lambent with inner power, shaded with sadness.

_What right did she have to act like that_? What right did she have to say such things?

But she had been that man's child and if _mother _had lived...

He hurt. Again, he hurt, hand reaching up to grasp fiercely at his shirt.  
_It hurt_.

He hated her for this. Because it hurt. Because_ she _was gone.

"...I'll leave you two alone, Terra's in the other room." he said bluntly, turning his back on her. It was family. That was important.  
...Warp, he sounded like a fool. An utter fool and he shouldn't. but...  
_She_ would have done it. He missed _her_ so.

"He's not my family anymore, Chaos." She rested her hand lightly upon the Emperor's golden armor, each pearl on her fingers lumious with potential, stars and worlds. "You know that."

"You loved him once." Chaos says, flatly. "I'm not going to rob you of it." He left the room.

***  
"He does not love me. He does not know me. You robbed me of that." Cosmos sighed. "My life was perhaps better, much better. But have you ever known me to trade my well being for the suffering of others?"

"I took what chances I could. Did what I thought I had to do." he smiles, feral, sharklike. "I have a daughter now." There was a bleak, perverse pride in his voice as he mentioned Beryl. Little Beryl, as broken as he was, but healing nicely._ "I have to look out for her wellbeing."_

"I am glad for you. I wish you did not have to suffer." She closed her eyes, moon glow gone, pain in the corners.

"I will suffer either way, foolish girl. Why did you not simply leave me to rest?" he snarled, turning on her, enraged enough to want to level a planet.

Except _not here_. Not where his daughter and her spouse and his family might see, and be... disappointed in him.

"We will fight. There will be a war and everyone will die, and then we will fight again, for the begining of all things."

"My function is not my choice. Your blindness is yours. You will be reborn again and again, unless I choose to damn creation into oblivion. We are all reborn. Your mother too." Cosmos seemed to be trying to placate him. He was in no mood for it, for her lies, her foolish spiels, her attempt at redemption.

He didn't want redemption. _He wanted the universe to burn_. He wanted it to scream as he screamed, silently, inside.

"..._She _was not there when I looked for her." the words are hissed out, cold, venomous. "I cannot find her."

"Across a hundred million galaxies, a hundred billion stars, and two dimensions." Cosmos, Serenity had the nerve to look at him with such pity in her eyes that it made him _sick_. "You never asked for help."  
After a moment, she asked, "...have you stopped looking?"

_"Help?_ From _you_, my _enemy_? _What kind of fool do you think me to be?_ Always, we come into existence. Always we fight. This is the way of creation and I am heartily sick of it. Say your piece, Cosmos, and leave. I have_ fledgelings_ to look after." _Mother would have approved._  
He hasn't stopped. He misses her still.  
_Fuck you Cosmos_, you galactic _bitch_. Fuck you and your resurrections. Fuck you and your messing with my work. Fuck you for not letting me _rest_.

"Your mother would have wanted to meet her grandchildren. You know I do not desire to fight you, Chaos." There she went again. He wanted to wrap his long fingers around that throat and squeeze until there was nothing left. Not breath, nor pity, nor pain.

An End. He would have an End to this.

"_You can desire or not desire and it is all the same to me. _For countless existences, you have trolled me, like the perpetual knife in the back. I trust you not. I like you not. _I despise you_. We are clear? Now stay the hells away from my kids, you _bitch_."  
Perhaps he is harsh. But_ she_ is gone and this is all he has left. and Cosmos has no right to use _her_. No right at all.  
He will kill her for this, or fall into nonexistence trying.

"I know you mean well, I know you are fufilling your purpose. I am truly sorry." Cosmos sounds... sad. She has no right to be. No right at all.

Warp damn her.

"As my daughter would have said. _You can take your sanctimonious crap and shove it, up your ass, sideways, with no lube."_ he hissed, turning on her once more. _"I will find her yet, or burn the galaxies down, trying."_ Viciously, he resisted the urge to shove her out a window. His kids wouldn't like it.

"And I don't need your goddamn help." he said, flatly. His final word on it.

Or it would've been, if she hadn't been able to take a goddamn hint and just leave the conversation. Bitch. _Bitch_. "You will."

He smiles, bleakly, terribly. "Oh, I won't."  
"That cauldron will fall. Your kingdom too. _I will have my revenge_."  
"But revenge can wait. I can wait. The boy my daughter chose is mortal, as is she. I can wait. Even until her grandchildren die, I can wait."

"I'm glad that you love. Goodbye Chaos, fight for the incarnations of those you love, I will defend their reincarnations." He snarled at her presumption even as she faded, all sparkles and white clouds.

_"Bullshit."_

{oOo}

The being that called itself the Emperor of Mankind had listened silently, analysing what he been said and what had not. There had been a possibility he would have known the woman? She would have been a powerful ally; he could see that. In a way, he resented being robbed of such power, of an equal.

The woman, he could at least understand. Compassion was something distant to him, but caring for something was not. Humanity must prevail: he had sacrificed all for it. He was born to shield and protect, to guide it to the stars and beyond.

The creature on the other hand, seemed to be focused on one person. Sentimental. Foolish.

What was one life compared to thousands? What were thousands compared to millions? Sacrifices were neccessary and all can be sacrificed. There was one goal and that goal must be achieved.

A new player in the game only meant more threads to followed and more intricate plans.

Sacrifce. Kill and destroy until humanity is at it's peak.

{oOo}

The being that called itself Chaos had an opposite agenda, a completely differing state of view. What were the teeming masses of mankind, of alien species to it, if not just another obstacle?

What were they?

They were nothing. Empty, Meaningless, wastes of flesh. They lived from day to day and were useless to it, helping it in its task without even impacting on its consciousness. Tools, like a moving wrench or screwdriver. Consuming and polluting and leaving waste, hastening its inevitable victory in their own ways.

Other than those _few _beings Chaos cared for, all was Dust. All was Ash. It was Ruin. It was the inevitable heat death of the Universe. It would be there at the end of all things, screaming in the dark, and no one would hear it.

Except Cosmos. And even then, that one was a being Chaos did not understand in the slightest. Often, it felt as if She existed only to thwart it in its duty. Often, it felt like throttling her for her foolish desire to keep bringing life back.

Why persist in bringing it back? It wanted to _rest_. It _hurt._ Humanity _hurt._ Human emotions _hurt._

And that was why it valued only those few people.

Because they were _shelter._

For a short, _happy_ time, it had been..._ not alone_. It had been one who was _valued_.

_It wanted that again_. Wanted it enough to doom everything else for just those things it desired.

After all, all will end anyway, why not?

The Emperor seized the being with an expression of infinite contempt. Chaos. Neither the Warp entities, nor this pathetic creature understood the concept. He supposed he couldn't blame them: the Ruinous Powers were embodiments of emotions and therefore limited. This being was far too focused on itself to truly grasp what chaos represented.

"You only care about your little Beryl?" he said, snorting. "Everybody else can die?"

The being understood nothing. It could care all it wanted about the girl, but it would never keep her happy.

"Oh, I know, you won't kill anybody she likes, won't you? But she will have children and she will want them to live and be happy after she dies. Will you against those wishes? Will you defile her memory like that?"

He paused. "And she does not want some people to be sad, does she not? Their happiness, however, is related to the happiness and safety of other people. Do you see the pattern now? How many people do you need to save over and over again, just to keep your precious little daughter happy?"

The contempt radiated from him almost like the glow that surrounded him.  
"Do you think about your actions? Do you consider the consequences? Or are they merely short-time fixes? Soon enough you will accidently cause something that in the end will make her unhappy. And then what?"

He raised his power claw, a tip of one of the talons under the beings chin. "Do you know that order is born from chaos? Sooner or later a pattern will always emerge."

Ancient eyes regarded the creature. The Emperor saw merely a child, playing with powers it did not understand, lashing out at laws that bound it. It lacked understanding, it lacked a higher purpose.

"Each of your actions causes a reaction. Can you predict them?"

{oOo}


	26. Empty Men: Imperial Lessons

{oOo}

An Essay On The Education of An Eldritch Being Who's Only Been Embodied for 20 Years and_ Still Cannot Understand Humanity_

{oOo}

"Well, why should I care if anyone else dies?" Chaos seemed truly puzzled. "They're just there. You poke them, they do shit. Then you take them away." It had been embodied for such a short time that it was only beginning to care about things like this. "My primary nature is to put a spanner in the works of_ every _enterprise, ruin things, force others to adapt and grow stronger. Not killing people she likes is pretty much as far as I've thought about." a slight shrug. The power claw did not bother it. Being mauled never did. Pain was irrelevant, unless it was emotional pain, which Chaos had (only recently, too recently) learned, sucked ass.

"I wouldn't know." He said carefully, I tend to not think that far. And as far as I know, as far as I can read, from her, the only one she would wish to truly protect would be your son. She'd obliterate anything she had to, to protect him." A grin. "She'd even stab me in the back for it."

The grin vanished as he contemplated the rest of the Emperor's speech, brow furrowed in confusion. Distressed. "But I don't quite understand how her happiness relies on the happiness of other people. As I said, normally, like for the past several reruns of the universe, I only ruin shit. Make other forces build their creations better. Twist things at a whim, and see how others adapt. Emotions aren't something I understand well, since I only started having them in shapes other than 'annoyance' around... " It tilted its head, thinking. "Perhaps as long as this shell has been alive, really. It's ... difficult to deal with. And prediction requires understanding Order beyond how to damage it. That's not something I've worked on, or had reason to work on, before."

"To put it plainly, you're dumb." The Emperor looked exasperated.

"HEY!" Chaos squawked. "Just because I don't bother to understand further consequences doesn't mean I'm 'dumb'. It just means it never mattered before." Chaos sulked. Clearly it needed schooling in things like well. Everything not involved in 'fucking shit up'.

Chaos had an instinctive knowledge of where, when and what to troll to have the most destructive effect. This included emotional buttons necessary to make people kill themselves or other people.

This knowledge does not, in any way imply that he was capable of comprehending human emotions _when they were applied to him_.

This was a glaring oversight.

The power claw tapped against its forehead. "I shall give you a simple example of how it works. Beryl likes my son Fulgrim. He has a good friend Ferrus Manus. His friend is fairly fond of his first captain. Now, assume the first captain dies. Ferrus will be unhappy. This in turn will upset Fulgrim, which will make Beryl unhappy. Simple?"

"...This confuses me. Go on. I need to learn this." A slight tilt of the head. Mulling things over like a cat poking at a toy.

"Do you feel unhappy, if Beryl is unhappy?"

"Yes. Very. Then I want to go and kill things until she smiles again," Chaos answered, honestly.

"Now, Beryl feels the same about Fulgrim, does she not?" the Emperor said. "Though, I believe she can think of other things that would make him happy other than killing."

"Yes. Sex. I still don't get what's so important about that. And cookies. I liked those." Chaos nodded.

"We... will leave sex for later. Now, as you see, her emotional state affects you. Does it not make sense it would apply to others?"

"...But they're just pawns..." Chaos seemed distressed. "They're not supposed to be people. Or valuable."

"...Oh Chaos, you fail at life," Cosmos thought, somewhere far, far away.

The Emperor nearly groaned, "They are people."

"...They're walking, talking tools which I can use to fuck shit up," Chaos' brow furrowed. "Beryl is a people. You are a people. Your kids are people. Cosmos is a troll, but she's people. Mama was people... The rest of all existence were just toys. And now you say everyone is a people? That makes no sense."

"How do you determine who is and who isn't a person?" the Emperor asked, patiently.

"IF I like them, then they are MY person. If I don't give a shit, they're tools." Chaos said, after a few moments of thinking.

"What about those you do not know, but your people like?" The Emperor asked.

"...They go away, but I try to make sure they go away quietly?" Chaos volunteered.

"But doesn't that make your people sad?" The Emperor asked.

"...They'll get over it, if I let them go with a minimum of pain." Chaos asked, tentatively. The talk was really helping in terms of education.

"Do you want them to be in pain?" The Emperor was very patient. It seemed that patience was to be put to the test, knocking some basic precepts of humanity into the other eldritch being's head.

"Er. Which them? If you mean my people, I don't want them to be in pain. If you mean their people's people... I think letting them die, in their sleep, is painless enough." Chaos frowned.

"But your people will be in pain even if their people die in painlessly, won't they?" the Emperor pointed out.

"...Well, generally, they're sad... but I only saw that once, with my mother. When I talked to mama about it, she said she's just grateful they didn't get eaten by monsters or die in worse ways... That means I'm doing this wrong, right?" Chaos asked, off balance.

"We're going fishing," the Emperor sighed. The damned thing WAS a child. A horribly powerful child and somebody needed to keep an eye on it.

"...This is that strange sport where you haul fish from the water and watch as they die in agony, right?" Chaos brightened. "Great!"

"...That is not the point of fishing at all." The Emperor looked long-suffering.

"Isn't it? Everyone seems unhappy when they don't get fish." Chaos seemed puzzled. "They always look so proud, comparing fish like... what was that term again? Phallic symbols?"

"That's swords," The Emperor sighed.

"And towers, right? I like swords, they get used to kill people!" Chaos grinned, brightly.

The Emperor arched his eyebrow. "You're quite pathetic."

"HEY!" Chaos squawked in protest.

{oOo}

Sometime later, over a pile of fish, on an island, in what used to be an Eldar Maiden World, Chaos finally explains his side of the story.

"Well, Cosmos came first, then life happens. We play together. In the beginning it's quiet and strange to see things form up, discs and orbits and all that stuff. The first life is quiet and we both poke it. It gets loud and then I test it to destruction, only Cosmos won't let me. Some stupid thing about hope and shit," He frowned. "And then, when I finally start winning because it's inevitable and I'll finally be able to kill everything and die and sleep, she fucking starts it all over. Well I can get a bit of a nap while planets are forming, but sometimes Cosmos and Life troll me by making lifeforms out of hot gas and shit."

The Emperor frowned. "Stop personifying natural processes. Nobody is trolling you, that's just how reality works."

"...I regret to inform you that natural processes are embodied in my Universe. In human form, mostly," Chaos clarified. "The ones bringing forth life are female. Which is why I scream 'DAMN YOU COSMOS!' so often."

"Must you be so whiny? Personified or not, they're natural processes. I told you earlier, chaos leads to order. As long as you exist, so will they. You cannot change it, so accept it," The Emperor sighed, exasperated.

"I nearly got one of them to kill us all, once," Chaos said wistfully.

"It was brilliant. Spectacular."

"I can't hear you over how emo you are," The Emperor countered, ruthlessly.

"...You are a troll. But I like you anyway," Chaos admitted.

"Good. Then you will read all those books, then write an essay on what you learned from them. You are to consider things that do not involve killing everything. I will be unhappy if you do not."

Chaos looked distressed. "I hate books," he muttered, slumping.

"And don't complain so much. It makes others miserable. Oh, and while we're at it, sit straight," the Emperor corrected.

It was going to be a long thousand years.

{oOo}


	27. Empty Men: This Dos Not Compute

{oOo}

"Why are there potted plants in the palace?' Konrad asked, slightly alarmed as he looked around. This... was not in his visions.

"Didn't Fulgrim tell you?" the Emperor asked him.

Konrad's response was a blank stare and blink, then an incremental shake of the head.

The Emperor clarified. "I married. You shall meet her soon."

For a fraction of a second all of Konrad's mental processes stopped utterly, "What entity? I was not aware that there was a need for an alliance marriage."

"Terra in human body," the Emperor responded, in a tone that indicated personifciations of planets were common place.

Again his mind stopped, he faintly wished he could enjoy it more. "I see," Konrad responded, in a tone that indicated that he sorely wanted to.

"...Why?"

"Because it was necessary," the Emperor replied. He considered something for a moment, silent, then added. "It is not as much of a sacrifice as I thought it would be."

"If I ask why you are unlikely to tell me," It was strangely soothing to not know-he had no visions of this, it didn't feel like he was treading towards his doom. "How is irrelevant, it happened. Thus, why am I here? You could have sent a comm." He blinked suddenly, "and when was the marriage, it wasn't broadcasted."

"Because I wanted to inform you in person," the Emperor replied. He paused then. "The official marriage hasn't taken place yet. DON'T ASK." He did not need another Roboute and more trauma caused by simple biological functions.

"We're also working on getting my sanity up to par so I'm not a complete little savage on live broadcast," a darkhaired woman said as she came around a corner, her knees muddy and feet bare.

The Emperor wrapped his arm around her shoulders as soon as she was in his reach. The movement seemed almost unconscious. "This is Terra."

The Emperor was being... affectionate? Konrad's eyebrows rose up as he bowed slightly. There were no formalities or protocols yet for this. "Greetings," not mother, "Empress." He straightened and his eyes went back to the Emperor, "We are not close, why tell me in person?"

"You are my son," the Emperor replied. "You may not accept it, but it will not change."

"I know this, Father," things don't change. "I saw it very clearly," blindingly.

"Do you? Is this why you want to run away even now?"The Emperor asked him, gaze piercing.

This was... strange. He did not know what was happening, the Emperor was acting outside of the profile he had constructed for him and, he was, upset? "Do you wish me to speak frankly?" Not permission, the Emperor did as he willed and damn the consequences to others.

"It would be very kind of you." That would allow him to act, instead of standing at the side and waiting.

"I don't like you. The only bonds between us are of blood and loyalty," and pain, but even still, he did not say that. "Your will is absolute, I acknowledge that, previously that and my service is all you required." What changed? "I don't like you," he stated again, for good measure

"I know." It was not that hard to notice.

Konrad was taken aback. He was not expecting that quiet sort of acknowledgement.

"The world that tried to eat you was not I."

...Crazy woman.

"Your sire," odd emphasis on that word, but fitting-he was only a genetic donar to Konrad, "has his flaws." She smiled with bloody teeth, "I am attempting to train him out of them, it seems to be working"

"Do you wish to tell me anything else?"

"I have duties to attend to and I will leave now."

The Emperor shook his head and placed his hand on Konrad's shoulder. "You do not understand. You are my child and I can tell there is more troubling you. If you chose not tell me, I cannot help."

Konrad looked at the Emperor's hand, trying to process it. Very distinctly there was almost the same sense the Emperor had felt from small male children; "ew, cooties."

The Emperor felt momentarily uncomfortable. "Please stop that. I feel an urge to give you a teddy bear and cookies and milk."

And it was Roboute all over again, at least it wasn't due to biological processes.

{oOo}


	28. Empty Men: This Boy Is a Monster

{oOo}

Ruin tilted his head slightly, knocked on the door. Hard.

He knew for a fact that the Emperor wasn't with Terra at the moment, and wasn't… busy. This was one of the reasons why he'd scared a Custodes shitless, taken directions to the Emperor's personal quarters, and made his way over here.

He ignored the fact that he was gore-covered, tightened the grip of his golem's hand on the still breathing 'present' just to hear it mewl mindlessly, and adjusted his grin to be... both beatific and disturbing. There was a trail, a spattering, really, of blood droplets in his wake, and none of it was his. There was the furniture that the golem had to move out of its way. There was the ruin that used to be a carpet.

And there were the traumatized Custodes. And yet, Ruin was sure the Emperor would forgive him all of the collateral damage. Because he had a very nice gift indeed.

The Emperor looked up from what appeared to be sheets of paper covered in neat script. By now no one would be able to read it—a code he had used once, long ago. It had been quite ingenious back then and now, when nobody knew the language it was almost completely impossible to read.

He regarded Ruin, his golem, then looked at the floor and the bloody trail. His stare returned to scrutinizing Ruin.

"What is this?" he asked with a frown. The golem held in its grasp the body of what looked like a young woman to most eyes, but to the Emperor's eldritch sight, she held a very large amount of power. Enough to fuel a planet.

And yet she was not a psyker. The eyes were wide open, blank in their gaze, and she mewled pathetically whenever the golem of dark crystal shifted its grip; and yet her presence in the Warp was different, a steady pulse.

"It's a present." Ruin smiled, a cruel, terrible smile it had once favored the people of her planet with.

"You know Terra is not quite human, and until now, you have had none like her to experiment on, yes?" A flash of fang. "This, like Terra, is something called a Senshi."

The feral expression widered. "And unlike Terra, this one, I do not care if you break it." A reiteration seemed apt.

"You may.." Ruin savored the words. "consider this a present."

The Emperor watched the woman, his expression thoughtful. She had power, but he didn't think she could use it any longer. He rose and walked over to the golem. His fingers slid underneath the woman's chin and he turned her face to have a better look at her. "Why is she in such a state?"

"She caused the death of my mother." Ruin's eyes narrowed. "Mother was Senshi too. This stupid thing sent an assassin, just to take over mother's planet." He frowned. "The idiot tried to control me. I played along with it long enough to find out why I came home to a corpse, and then I broke the planet it was bound to. Tortured its people to death. Hunted down the remnants. Then I took it to break it."

A fanged, joyless grin. "It owed me. It will never be able to pay me back, but its ova and genes can be used to breed you better weapons." Ruin paused. "You are.. what is the term? Family. Now."

"I have to make sure you succeed and survive. So. This one can be used as fodder for your experiments. I can also change it to make it a battery, for you to use as an extra source of power. That is fair, is it not?"

The Emperor watched the woman silently. She appeared to be healthy... "How do you keep her healthy and clean?"

The gift would be quite welcome, though he wished to consult Terra.

The thought made him pause. He had never wished to consult decision with others. It was quite odd to suddenly think that there was somebody who needs to approve of his decisions.

Ruin shrugged. "Golems. I broke its mind beyond repair a long time ago and I prefer it broken. I do not want it to have sanity, or hope, because it deserves no such things. It tried to make me its dog." The grin resurfaced. "_I am no one's dog_. Now it relies on golems to keep it fed, clean, healthy."

"Kept it in the bowels of my 'home'." He tilted his head slightly, conflicted. "Kept my mother preserved, frozen between one moment and the next in the 'heart' of my 'home' because I wanted to resurrect her, but I never found her soul. I can bring her here, for you to extract samples, but I wish you to promise me no harm or disfigurement will happen to her."

The Emperor patted Ruin's head in silence. The gift was quite morbid, both of them, but Ruin for all its power was still a child in mind. Its gift was heartfelt in its own way.

"Will you promise?" Ruin asked him intently. It... no, he... needed to know the body of its precious mother _(precious fragile mommy) _would be safe here.

"I will," the Emperor replied.

"Good." Ruin said quietly, subdued, accepting the head pettings like a child would. A source of comfort though it didn't know why. "I will bring my mother to you tomorrow then."

"You will leave me the golems?" the Emperor asked, eyeing them thoughtfully. They would be interesting research material...

"Yes." Ruin said, tilting his head slightly. "Though I don't know why you'd want them, and Beryl can make them too. Though hers are... " he made the universal gesture for curves.

"Do you have any theories as to why?" The Emperor asked curiously.

"I think it is because she is a girl." Ruin said solemnly. "and I have never understood girls. Not even when I was gender changed as one."

"I find there is no significant difference between males and females," the Emperor replied. "Unless it is culturally enforced. Or related to breeding."

"...That doesn't explain a lot of things, to me." Ruin said uncomfortably. "They think differently." Clearly someone needed to take it in hand and explain things about life.

{oOo}

The next day, the Emperor was discussing something with Horus, their voices lowered. Horus appeared to be very glad about whatever it was. Fulgrim couldn't hear what they were saying—not that he was trying—it was just hard not to notice when he couldn't hear two people talking in the same room as him.

"And then we moved in-" Ferrus Manus continued. Fulgrim nodded, focusing on the mental picture of the battlefield again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mortarion talking with Konrad somewhat to his left. Occasionally, he would catch a word or too. They appeared to be discussing problems related to deploying with the Imperial Army.

The sound of a scuffle resonated here as it would not have, in any other place.

The doors swung open, and Ruin walked in, carrying a woman in his arms, in what had been termed bridal style.

Unlike the vicious way the other body had been handled, this one was carried with reverence. Adoration, bleak-bitter, tainted. Even in death, her body was handled lovingly. In fact, at first glance, one would have thought that she was alive, and was Ruin's bride, asleep with her head tucked slightly under his chin.

And she was beautiful, as all Senshi were. Small, slender, more delicately built than the other one, long, wavy hair a rich, reddish gold, skin pale as ivory, clad in palest blue, and with beautiful jewelry clasped around her neck, wrapped around her slim wrists, her graceful arms.

The only clue that she was dead was the horribly visible stain of blood, barely dried on her chest, between her breasts.

Ruin ignored the others. Met the Emperor's gaze defiantly, protectively as he made his way directly to him. "You had better take good care of her." he said, defensively. It was all too clear that he wasn't willing to give the body up, but was doing it anyway.

Because.

Because he could help with this. And he knew, knew she was dead anyway, and what would hoarding the body further do? At least this way.. she would've liked it. She would have been used to protect her son's children. Her grandchildren.

Horus stared at the body, his expresssion between confusion and horror. The body was fresh and... He looked at Ruin trying to form the question that was rattling through head, but he found his lips unable to form words.

Ferrus Manus stopped in mid sentence, as did Konrad Curze.

"He did not kill her," the Emperor said.

Ruin simply glared at them, daring them to comment on it. "She was my mother." he said, defensively. "And she was powerful, as I am. Her genes can be useful." The glance swung back to the Emperor. "You promised." He reminded the Emperor, firmly. "You'll give her back when you have what you need to make your new weapons."

"I shall," the Emperor replied solemly.

"T-that's sort of creepy," Fulgrim managed to say after a moment. Ferrus Manus nodded.

"Why is she so young?" Konrad asked, frowning. "She died only recently."

"Not recently." Ruin said, reluctantly giving the corpse over to the Emperor's ams. He was an Eldritch Horror. Everyone in the room knew it by now.

And yet, even though he was a monster, the grief and despair still twisted his face for the all too human moment it took for him to control it again, shove it down.

"She was murdered. I froze her between one moment and the next." A glance at Konrad. "I could not bear to have her body rot and turn to dust. I entombed her those many centuries ago, and only took her out now. Because she would have preferred this."

He frowned. "I avenged her then. She wouldn't have approved of it. But... She would approve of this now."

"St-" Fulgrim started to say, but Mortarion promptly nudged him in the ribs with his elbow. The Phoenician glared at his brother, but Mortarion did not appear phased.

"I think I prefer when you warn us about cosmic horrors," Horus said, sounding rather disturbed.

The Emperor calmly accepted the body. He was already working on halting the natural process of decay, which would otherwise start as soon as it was out of Ruin's hands.

Ruin's eyes flickered to Horus. A wan smile flickered across his face. "Well, cosmic horrors are easier to deal with?" he jested weakly. Clearly he still wasn't fully recovered. "And yes, I know it's... creepy. It might creep you out worse if I admitted I trapped her enemy in the basement and tortured her to repeated breakdowns and mental death."

A moment's pause. "Which I totally did. I'm an eldritch horror. Everything I learned of humanity, I learned from that woman." A jerk of the head, indicating the corpse in the Emperor's arms. "When she died, I went berserk. It wasn't pretty."

"That is usually classified as TMI," Mortarion said.

The other Primarchs nodded fervently. Konrad's expression twitched, before returning to focus. For a moment, he appeared to be on the verge of attacking Ruin, but seemed to reconsider.

"I think that's enough," the Emperor said.

"As you wish." Ruin managed to smile, eyes still on the corpse for a moment. "I will be back when you are done. You can contact me through Beryl."

He teleported out of there, fighting the impulse to take it back with him.

{oOo}


	29. Empty Men: Uncertain Definitions

{oOo}

When they next saw Ruin, it was the aftermath of a battlefield. The creature was polishing a large scythe that looked as if it was made of bones and screaming faces. He raised his head, caught sight of them. Dispersed the scythe to wherever it came from and summoned golems to go, stacking the enemy corpses like cordwood.

The Night Lords were the last Legion to be upset about such a sight. Nevertheless, they were. There was a deep wrongness about Ruin, and even they could not stand its sight for too long. They fought, of course. They won.

The battlefield was a slaughterhouse and the Night Lords were far from done. Once they were deployed it meant an example needed to be made. They gather trophies for the populace to see. They took the wounded as prisoners, so that their maimed bodies stood as testament to Imperial judgment.

Konrad Curze cornered Ruin while his Astertes were busy. They needed to talk.

"You were wrong," he said, his voice a low hiss.

He couldn't properly show the being how wrong it had been. Couldn't make it understand. Words were not enough and being around Ruin made him want to lash out and scream. But they needed to talk.

"How was I wrong?" Ruin asked, tilting his head slightly, confused.

He didn't really understand humans. Konrad in particular was very difficult to understand.

"That woman-you killed her for your own satisfaction. It's wrong," Konrad replied, glaring at the creature. His hand twitched as he restrained himself with difficulty. Words. He needed to say things this time.

Ruin contemplated him. The face may have seemed to be placid, but the eyes were anything but. "I think we are not understanding each other." he said, as gently as he could. "Before I was born to my mother, I was a force of death, and destruction, as much as any of the cosmic horrors called the Ruinous Powers are now. I knew no love, no mercy, no pity. People weren't people. They were toys."

He met Curze's gaze directly, Cold. Calm. Terrible. "If your entire world is bound up in one person, if that person is everything good, beautiful, and perfect in the world to you. And then you come home, and find that person a corpse because some idiot wanted to use you, what would you have done?"

"Killed them. Slowly," Konrad replied. "Where everyone could see and learn that something like this should never happen again. If you hide it, then how will they know not to do it?"

"Oh, I didn't hide it. Not all of it." Ruin said slowly. "She.. the one who ordered my mother murdered..She said she was doing it for her people." His gaze sharpened. "So I killed them too. Slowly."

"I obliterated her planet. I tortured her people to death. I told them what I'd been told, that their Senshi, their precious protector, had a fellow guardian murdered, like she didn't matter."

"I told each and every one of them, and all their allies, why they were going to die."

"Then I killed them. Slowly. And then when that was done, I took their so-called protector, The idiot who started this whole goddamn mess, and then I broke her down over and over." The gaze was hard, terrible, implacable. "She stole my reason for giving a damn about humans. She took the one thing, one person I could not replace and then told me some shit about it being for the Greater Good."

"Then she told me she planned to use me against other planets. Couldn't comprehend why my mother hadn't done it before." Gritted teeth. "She deserved what she got. All of them did."

Konrad was silent. He listened to the whole monologue, his expression frozen and dead. When he finally spoke again, his voice was shaky. "I-I need..." he clutched his head, pulling at his hair, face twisted in a grimace of pain. Then he snarled. "GO AWAY!"

".. I will." Ruin agreed, carefully eyeing him with.. yes. It was concern. "You should go to the infirmary. And.." Ruin chose his words carefully. "You are right. I should have just taken the senshi and broken her down out in the open as an example, instead of taking my rage out on her people. I was in pain, desired to share my pain with what I saw as the cause for it, and then lashed out, to do more damage than was necessary."

"Go away. You're hurting me, go away," Konrad muttered. "You're all wrong, I can't see and-and now I... why aren't you going away?"

His head hurt. So terribly-he was pretty certain he'd be having a vision now, but the thing was blocking them somehow. It still hurt. Like something was inside his head and trying to claw its way out.

"I'm sorry." Ruin told Konrad quietly. "I know I'm all wrong. I'll go."

And he did. To find Terra to ask her about visions and how to make an efficient painkiller. He did, however, keep the block on the visions up. He wasn't going to let them keep screwing the man over like they used to.

At first, it did not help. He was still in pain, but slowly it passed-like always. Konrad Curze was functional again. It was hard to tell for how long, though. He, himself, had no idea.

{oOo}

And one day, Ruin came by again, bringing cookies, of all things. People shaped cookies. Secretly laced with painkillers.

"Hello." he said, almost hesitantly.

"I told you to go away," Konrad all but snapped. He backed away, body tense. He was starting to feel a headache building up.

"Eat one of these and I will." Ruin said stubbornly, folding his arms, gesturing to the cookies he'd laid on the table. They would, he was fairly sure, stop the migraine bit. He could handle the vision blocking bit on his own.

After a moment of hesitation, Konrad reached out and ate the cookie. He did not appear to be enjoying it, but then he hardly ever appeared to be enjoying anything. The headache was probably making him even more hostile.

The painkillers had been formulated by a being who knew more about the human and other species brain than any being could ever lay claim to.

The pain began to change, becoming little by little, lessened, and more distant, until it was little more than a slight pulse, a throbbing sensation, in the back of his mind.

Ruin watched him expectantly. "So. Feel better now?" he asked?

"W-what did you do?" Konrad asked at the same moment. He appeared to be mostly surprised, but suspicious too. He looked at the cookies, as if he expected them to be poisoned.

Ruin grinned smugly, like a cat. "I did the vision blocking, and Terra did the painkillers." He folded his arms. "Now we can talk without your getting migraines, right?" A tilt of the head, inquisitive. "You should have one a day, at least."

"I'd rather talk to Terra, then you," Konrad replied. Painkillers? "Wa-ait, what did you say about vision blocking?"

"I didn't like the way the other powers were dicking around with your vision." Ruin pointed out mildly. "So I did the equivalent of shutting them out, by slamming the door in their faces."

Konrad stared at Ruin. His face showed no expression for a moment, as he seemed to be trying to grasp what he heard. "Why?" he whispered.

A tilt of the head again as Ruin tried to phrase what felt like a difficult concept. "You..." How does one explain the thought processes of an eldritch horror? He was responsible for Konrad, he knew. He didn't like seeing him in pain. He just didn't know what it meant.

"I'm responsible for you?" He hazarded, though clearly, from the slight confusion on his face, that wasn't the wording he was looking for. "Because it has to be done?" A frown. Still clearly looking for words since those were inadequate.

A shrug. "I'm adopting you." That was as good a reason as any. "Besides," he hazarded. "Someone has to tell me when I'm doing the wrong thing?"

A frown. "I don't like seeing you hurting. It makes me feel odd. Bad."

Konrad stared at the creature, trying to understand what he heard. It didn't really make sense. "You like me?"

It appeared to be the most logical explanation, but he felt that it was still very shaky and probably wrong.

"Sort of." Ruin said hesitantly. "and you were a nice man in the other universes." A wry smile. "Rescued your brother, Fulgrim from one of those cosmic horrors that freak Horus out so badly."

"Nice?" Konrad asked, his mind boggling. "Other universe? Saved Fulgrim? What are you talking about?"

Ruin tilted his head slightly. Then played back the rescue attempt in an illusion. Konrad could see himself, facing a four armed monstrosity with wings, and a snake's tail for a lower body, demanding the return of his brother. Could see the creature dying. Could see himself hauling Fulgrim out of that place, as the other man looked seriously traumatized.

"This." Ruin said hesitantly. "Every choice makes another timeline, like a universe." He shrugged. "You were a hero in one of them. Protected your sibling. Made sure he didn't kill himself after that... thing. used him."

"So. If I say you are a nice man, it is because you _are _one." It was that simple for him.

Ruin noticed the other male's look of confusion. Horrible brain broken confusion.

He clarified it as best as he could. "Your visions show you what can go wrong, not necessarily what will. I see.. well, all the ways how things can go wrong, if I poke it just..like _so_. Although for how to_ fix _things, I have to go by ear, and guess like crazy, or in several cases, look through other timelines made by other people's decisions to guess what's going to happen in this world." he shrugged. "I am not a nice man. I am a very _bad_man, but I recognize decency when I see it."

"How does this work?" Konrad asked. "I... how?" He wasn't even sure what he was asking about-the way Ruin knew other realities, the scene he was shown... He just didn't understand.

"I am the inevitability of defeat, the inevitability of things going wrong just when everyone else thinks it's going their way." Ruin offered carefully. "I am certain destruction. I am that which tests to destruction, forcing people and things to adapt."

"I am not salvation, nor rescue, nor peace." he said hesitantly, "Thus my abilities only allow me to act in certain ways."

"In essence, as long as anyone makes plans, a part of me is there to fuck them sideways, with a pitchfork, and no lube." A slight shrug.

"On the other hand, I can make people change, so they get stronger. I can give someone the power to change an event, or destroy things."

He now seemed uncomfortable. The words weren't quite describing all that he was, and they were, as usual, inadequate. Chaos was... he was... more complicated than that. He was all the processes that broke things down, so others could build them up. He was the change that could make things better or worse. He was confusion and emotion and the change of seasons. He was a lot of things not in his own offered definition.

"Things like that. I am Chaos by nature, and must therefore act chaotically, which leaves me a_ little _leeway in my actions. Since I spent most of my previous unembodied existence _predictably _ruining entire galaxies, I can choose to spend my lee-way of 'good luck' in this timeline, until the human race here ends. On its own. Naturally."

He grinned. "In short, I can now choose who to troll."

"I think I need to rest," Konrad said weakly. He had braved through visions of unspeakable horrors, but finding out that an Eldritch Abomination liked him was an experience he did not wish to repeat. He wondered if the new Empress would allow him to use that hiding place she promised for him after all.

{oOo}


	30. Empty Men: Home Is Where the Heart Is

{oOo}

"This is your home?" Beryl asked, stunned, disbelieving. The place looked like a mixture of palace, gothic cathedral and museum. It was beautiful. Exquisitely beautiful, with, from what she could see, thousands of pieces of art. The walls themselves were ornately carved, as were the columns, the roof's domes, the minarets. Its towers, spires, rose gracefully. From a distance, the place looked like an exquisite jewel-box.

The entire thing was a gigantic work of art.

And yet as they approached, they saw the signs of dust and fractures in the pillars, the sculptures, the flagstones. As they came in, they saw the pieces of art beginning to shatter. Sculptures of exquisite beauty in thousands of different styles fell to shards, and reformed themselves in different poses or configurations. Fretwork and pierced screens shattered to dust, and pieces, before reshaping themselves to give the visitor more privacy.

Silver fittings, metal doorknobs, engravings, tarnished to almost black or verdigris, before shining again. Frames tarnished, darkened before turning to dust and reforming in an almost pristine state around their paintings.

The paintings themselves dulled and darkened in color their paint cracking and flaking away in places before returning to their previous coloration and brightening once more.

Under their feet, the mosaics and carved floors shattered, and rebuilt themselves. Everything in this place, beautiful as it may have been, was in some state of decay and re-formation.

Almost pristine, Fulgrim's keen eyes saw. This was Ruin's home, it was not in his nature to renew.

The carved screens themselves changed shape. Over and over, nothing remaining longer than it took to appreciate its beauty and mourn for its loss. The halls, high and echoing, intricately carved, were darkened by what looked like smoke. The scent of untouched eons permeated the place. Age beyond age.

The velvets and silks though wondrously soft, were on the verge of being threadbare, though they constantly rewove themselves, threads of varying color filling in new embroidery patterns.

The windows, of stained glass, shifted color and tint even as they watched, in some cases, falling to dust before reshaping into a new pattern, painting the rooms over and over again in lovely, ephemeral splashes of color.

Beryl flinched the first few times as a piece of art shattered or crumbled under her hand, then gave Ruin a sharp look. "This place is in disrepair."

The sight of this place would have made an artist weep. Weep for the beauty that was lost between moments, over and over.

"I am Ruin." he pointed out mildly, having brought out the guest-meal, plates of scones, with jam and tea that looked quite normal. "It is my nature, and this IS the heart of my power. It reflects me, as Elysium reflects Terra. Or perhaps I should call her Gaia now? Make yourselves comfortable." he gestured to the large, soft, thickly padded sofa. "These things are quite safe."

"They're not going to fall apart?" Beryl asked him tentatively, eyeing the comfortable looking couch.

"Oh, not yet. Not for a good long time." Ruin said cheerfully. "I actually bought those for guests. My own are... ah.. fragile, but they carry weight as long as I tell them to."

{oOo}


End file.
